Love is a wonderful thing
by erisedvision139
Summary: Hermione goes on strike from Snape. Post war. Pretty much ignored DH.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1 – in which there is an explosion in the potions laboratories**

Hermione cursed, wondering why she had ever taken up this job in the first place. She reminded herself that Potions was and always had been her favourite subject, and that there was no way on this Earth that she was going to let that snarky git of a man, Severus Snape, limit her future.

He was utterly insufferable as a mentor; constantly bringing up Hermione's lack of NEWTS, and stating how lucky she was that he had let her become his apprentice after the War. She had gone with Harry and destroyed the Horcruxes during what would have been their seventh year, and was already stretched to breaking point by the snideness of Snape, even though it was just the sixth week of the year. Not only did he constantly snub her ability, he wouldn't let her brew anything more complicated than a cup of tea. He also insulted her and her friends, especially Harry, at every opportunity. Hermione was getting steadily angrier. Ginny was apprenticed to Flitwick for charms – on early application! (Flitwick had said her talent was obvious and that no exams were needed) - and as their rooms were next to each other's she was reminded all the time of the stark contrast between her situation and Ginny's. 'Old Flicky' was apparently the most benevolent wizard since Merlin, and she was learning so much from him. Well, bully for Ginny, Hermione thought sourly.

While Hermione was pondering her bad luck and supposedly watching and learning as Snape brewed a Polyjuice Potion in the classroom labs, he said snidely " And I'd tie back that mane of yours, when you become advanced enough, of course, because nobody wants to find some bushy hair in their potion and become you for an hour."

Hermione had had enough. She exploded.

"Firstly, you git," she stormed. Snape looked up from his simmering cauldron, rose an eyebrow, and opened his mouth, ready to distribute punishment, but Hermione strode on.

"It's the bloody fumes that make my hair so much like a 'mane' as you so charmingly put it. And secondly," she paused, hesitating for just a moment. But her anger propelled her onwards. She had already crossed the line, and it was getting further and further away, looking almost like an insignificant speck in the distance as she continued, "you. I hate absolutely everything about you, 'Professor', most especially your narrow minded presumption!"

Again Snape opened his mouth; again Hermione bulldozed ahead.

"I made Polyjuice potion in my second year, you idiot! I was TWELVE! I spent all of my sixth year memorising the NEWT syllabus, knowing that I wouldn't be here for my last year, and that I would need my knowledge for the War. I have been able to do a Protean charm, and a Patronus, since my fifth year, and I'm sure that I could brew Wolfsbane, Felix Felicis, and everything else easily. I'm not twelve anymore, Snape, nor am I your pupil. I am eighteen, and I'm really, really angry. I hate you! You can't bring yourself to talk to me like a human being; you refuse to even deign to acknowledge me in the corridors! And, joy of joys, you have me under a bloody contract so I can't leave. But," she said, rather out of breath by this point, " . . . but it doesn't say I cant go on strike. So that's it, Snape! I'm on strike until you can treat me like the adult that I am! Good afternoon, professor."

Snape was speechless. All he could think was 'Insolence! Insubordination! Insane, insatiable, inscrutable, insensate, insensible, insuperable, insurrectionist! Insufferable know-it-all Gryffindor!' and other phrases beginning with 'Ins-'.

While Severus Snape stood silently, unable to come up with a snide retort to such an unexpected outburst, Hermione gathered her books and left the dungeons. The sound of the heavy door clanking shut brought Severus back to the world. He stalked to his cabinet full of potions, opened a secret panel, retrieved his Firewhisky and downed it in one mouthful.

'Jesus,' he thought, having finally recovered the ability to think normally, 'She's angry. Did I deserve any of it? Of course not. It's true she's not my pupil anymore, so I probably should lay off the comments a bit. And I really can't be bothered pickling those toad brains myself, so I had better go and get her back. Persuade her somehow.'

* * *

Unfortunately, Snape's idea of persuasion, ("There's lots for you still to do. I could let you prepare some Swelling Solution if you behave well"), did not equate with Hermione's (a grovelling apology).

"If I behave well?" she echoed incredulously. "Honestly, you're as bad as Ron. 'Look, Hermione, there's stuff you have to do. Come back, and I'll give you more tedious, dragging, mind-numbingly boring work as a reward. How about a second year potion?'"

"Miss Granger, you are my apprentice, and, like it or not, you will do as I say. Now come back to the dungeons and cease this disruption at once!"

"No. I don't have to. Mobilicorpus!"

Hermione unceremoniously shunted Snape out of the door to her room, which she then locked magically. She heard Snape trying 'Alohomora' and the futile little swishing noise that meant that the spell had failed.

"Give up, Professor. I invented that sealing spell myself."

She heard cursing, and a few more choice insults - "That's not really going to help much, Professor," – and then finally the noise of him stomping back down to the dungeons. She had never heard Snape stomp before. He had always stalked, or strode. But never stomped. It was almost as unheard of as a smile.

* * *

Hermione turned away from the door, and owled Ginny, who came up to her room at once.

"Ginny! When I said that I needed to talk to you, I didn't mean for you just to abandon Charms!"

"Oh, it's nothing. You said it was pretty big, and Flicky let me go, on condition that I tell him what you've done to get you so worried. He seems to think it's because of Snape."

"It is."

Hermione continued, spilling out the entire story, ending with – "I know I'll be in so much trouble from the Headmistress, it's just that he treats me like dirt, and doesn't respect me at all."

Then she paused, and Ginny, glad to get a word in edgeways, said, "He wouldn't have hired you if he didn't respect you."

"He didn't hire me. Professor McGonnagal made him. She probably had to bribe him or something . . ."

"Not according to Flitwick"

"What?"

"Well, Flicky told me that Professor Sprout told him that Professor Vector told her that Professor Snape specifically asked for you over the Headmistress' suggestion of you as an Arithmancy apprentice and Draco for Potions."

" . . . Oh," said a puzzled Hermione. "Well then, why does he treat me like this?"

"He chose you because you were better than Draco, but that doesn't mean he likes you. He hates the way you constantly suspected him, and, knowing him, he's probably still angry about you knocking him out in your third year." Ginny said sagely.

There was a long pause, and then Hermione said, "He holds a grudge, doesn't he?"

Calmer now, she picked up on a thought that had been niggling at her. "Draco? What's with the first name terms?"

"Well . . ." began Ginny, blushing furiously. "It was . . . yes . . . but we're just friends."

Hermione was a bit surprised that Ginny was so defensive about it; she didn't see anything wrong with Malfoy.

"Ok, then" she said bemusedly.

"You don't mind?"

"Of course not! He saved my life in the final battle, and he was forced into what he did earlier by his parents. Do you fancy him?"

"No, not . . . no."

Hermione, wholly unconvinced, chose to drop the subject. Ginny was obviously uncomfortable with talking about it.

"Ok then. I suppose I might see him when I'm on strike, if he comes in to visit you."

"No! I mean no, he wouldn't come into visit me. Wait . . . you're still on strike?"

"Of course! Do you want to help me make a banner?"


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2 – in which there is breakfast**

The next day, at breakfast time in the Great Hall, pupils were craning over each other's heads to catch a glimpse of Hermione. However, it wasn't hard for them to see, or hear, the banner that her and Ginny had made. It hung ten feet tall on the wall, and spread the width of the staff table where they sat. It contained a picture of a stern Snape pacing around his classroom. Together, they had bewitched the photo so that it spoke, repeating the infamous "Welcome to first year potions" speech, and also a few of his favourite insults. Hermione's words were printed in large letters beside the picture: "Fellow 'dunderheads', support me, Hermione Granger, in my strike against the snarky one!"

Hermione herself sat next to Ginny at the staff table, grinning.

"It's working! All I want is to get him to apologise and to become a proper teacher, and I think he will crack in days!"

At this point Severus himself strode in, cloak billowing out behind him, and the laughing pupils (well mostly, the Slytherins were muttering furiously), stopped talking and watched him. He stopped in his tracks, glared coldly up at the main table, then paced slowly up to Hermione, each step echoing ominously in the sudden silence.

"Miss Granger," he hissed. "You're embarrassing me!" She smirked at him, and replied flippantly, "Well, that's rather the point."

"Insufferable brat," he spat, his words growing softer and more menacing by the syllable. "I'm not going to beg you to take your job back, you know. This silly protest of yours has done nothing to alter my position upon the matter. You will soon realise your folly."

"Really, sir, with an attitude like that . . ." she began clearly, but a glowering Snape had already stalked away to his sanctuary in the dungeons. Chatter resumed among the students, and the sun came out from behind the clouds that had appeared on the enchanted ceiling when Snape had entered.

"Ginny," Hermione said thoughtfully, staring at the giant doors that had slammed shut behind Professor Snape.

"That was fantastic, Hermione!" she interrupted enthusiastically. "I swear I saw McGonnagal chuckle!"

"Well, yeah, it's good to have some attention for the cause, but I believe him when he says that this isn't going to make him change. He's faced a lot worse. No, Ginny, I have an idea. He doesn't believe in my ability at Potions, or at least he says he doesn't, so what if I prove it to him?"

"Hermione Jean Granger, you are evil," she remonstrated.

"What did you have in mind?"

His stomach rumbled as he paced around his office in the dungeons. No breakfast today, due to that Granger girl. The nerve of her! She had even _smirked_ at him. That was _his_ facial expression. To turn it against him like that wasn't right. But he would not be beaten. He would stick to his guns. He was the teacher, and therefore always right.

He gloomily sat at his desk, waiting for the brats to come in. Perhaps he could go down to the kitchens at break time, and get something to eat from the House Elves. He never normally ate much anyway. Sometimes he skipped breakfast altogether. But since she had taken it away from him, he was doubly hungry. Damn Granger.

Hermione was ecstatic. Just one week after her fantastic idea, her potion was nearly ready. She had received permission from the Headmistress, Professor McGonnagal, to use a cauldron and all the necessary materials in her room. In fact, the Headmistress had been kind enough to buy all the ingredients and equipment for her. With no time spent enduring a boring apprenticeship, she focussed all her attention on the brewing. Adding the final ingredient with a flourish, she thought back to the conversation she had had with McGonnagal . . .

"Well, Hermione, I certainly admire your courage, and I think that this is a brilliant idea. I must say, with all the excitement, one good thing is that pupils will take much more interest in their Potions lessons. However, could you make the potion a temporary one? Say . . . twenty-four hours? Just so that classes won't be disrupted too much. I will, of course, be supplying all materials needed, so that his suspicions are not aroused."

"Oh, thankyou, Professor! Twenty-four hours should be more than enough!"

"This should be interesting, Miss Granger."

Hermione smiled as she bottled the solution, anticipating the next day. Then she vanished the rest with her wand – she doubted that she would need it again – and packed up, breathing in the heady aromas of new parchment, freshly cut grass and the musky scent of sandalwood as she did so.

Hermione was smiling at breakfast as she chatted to Ginny. She wasn't sitting at the Staff Table; on the second day of her strike, Snape had successfully argued that as she was abstaining from the work of an apprentice, she should also be excused the privileges of being one. However, this had backfired on Severus, because Hermione had been sitting with the Gryffindors instead, who wholeheartedly supported her. Ginny had also chosen to sit with Hermione at the Gryffindor table, and they had had lots of fun talking to their friends – Ginny especially, who enjoyed speaking to her former classmates who hadn't left school early to become an apprentice.

A group of Gryffindors had taken to wearing "Support Hermione Granger" badges, which when pressed would switch to the phrase "Snarkiness Stinks". Hermione suspected the Creeveys.

Her banner still hung on the wall, despite Professor Snape's many surreptitious attempts to remove it, because the Permanent Sticking Charm was one she had invented herself, and as a result one only she knew the counter-charm for. Many pupils had signed the banner, adding their own messages of support, or anecdotes about things Snape had done to them.

Most pupils had grown accustomed to the strike, although it was still a hot topic of conversation. Hermione hoped that the potion would spice things up a bit. She glanced up at the staff table, up at her former mentor. He looked tired and grumpy as he knocked back his pumpkin juice, wishing it were something stronger. He had had a bad week, and it was all the fault of that insufferably know-it-all . . .Granger.

He looked up from his plate, straight into her eyes.

'Oh, god, no. Bloody hell,' Hermione thought.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3 – In which Snape has an epiphany, and makes a fashion statement**

Gorgeous Granger. How he loved her. He loved everything about her, her wit, her smile, her thirst for knowledge, her chocolate eyes, her brown tumbling hair . . . He needed to tell her about his epiphany, but he couldn't risk walking over to her upon his suddenly jelloid legs.

"Sonorous," he said, clearing his throat. "Miss Granger, Hermione, I love you. Will you marry me?"

Minerva McGonnagal snorted into her cereal. Some other teachers, who were in on the joke, grinned at Hermione. Most, however, were baffled.

Hermione smiled, shook her head, non-verbally removed the banner that hung behind Snape, stood up, and left the Great Hall. Confusion spread amongst the pupils. The Gryffindors, when they saw Ginny slump onto the table, laughing so hard she cried, were amused. The Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws were confused. The Slytherins were mostly outraged.

Professor McGonnagal stood up and left as well, half-running.

* * *

"Hermione!" she exclaimed, after catching her up in the corridor leading to the Great Hall. "That was marvellous! But don't you feel even the smallest bit sorry?"

" Not in the slightest, and thankyou. But I'd better get to Potions class. He insisted that I watch all his classes, even the first year ones, in order that I 'Begin to comprehend, Miss Granger, how a true Potions Master teaches.'" She giggled and ran.

Severus was sitting in the Breakfast Hall, thinking. He was oblivious to all the mutters, hysterics, and pointing. Hermione, his love, had to have meant 'Not here, ask me privately', by that shake of her head. She hadn't looked revolted, which was always a good sign. In fact, he remembered, her delicate features had been arranged into a smile, which was even better. He cursed himself suddenly. He should have been more romantic. Then he remembered he had a lesson to prepare, but why should he waste his life trotting out instructions to complete dunderheads when he could be with Hermione – no, she would be there! He abandoned his toast and rushed off to prepare.

* * *

It was time for Potions, and neither Snape nor Hermione had entered yet. The class was excited. They were in fourth year, and wanted to know what had been making "The Snarky One" as he was now widely known, act so strangely.

Severus entered first. He was almost unrecognisable. His hair was glossy and sleek, hanging lightly upon the red and gold frock coat that he was wearing, charmed from its previous black into the Gryffindor colours. He looked around the class hungrily. Hermione was not yet there. Titters, muffled at first, broke out among the class.

"Silence! Today, you will be – "

The door creaked open, and Hermione entered, late after going back and informing the staff of what she had done and asking them not to let anything slip to Snape. The man in question turned his head, and exclaimed

"Ah. Hello, darling! As I was saying . . . What was I saying? I can't remember, I am so dazzled by your presence. The instructions, class, are on the board," flicking his wand as he did so. "Do have a seat, Hermione."

Hermione, who had paused in mid-step when entering the room, shot a glance towards Snape. He looked . . . almost nice. The yellow teeth had disappeared: they were now white, gleaming, and perfectly even. They were being shown now more in smiles than bared in anger. It was strange and unexpected, like a different person inhabited Snape's body. His hair was smooth and fine, and his eyes were the same as ever, dark, bottomless, and intriguing, though they did show more emotion. The clothes were a bit of a mistake, though. She knew that it couldn't have taken him more than a few seconds to change his appearance so – why didn't he always do it? Maybe he was only introduced to the charms later in life, and thought that it would look ridiculous if, one day, he chose to come down to breakfast looking like this. Pride, as usual, she thought. She silenced the class with a finger to her lips, and, pretending not to notice that Snape was patting a place on his desk as the area on which to sit, walked to her usual chair at the back corner of the room, from which she had watched all of the previous lessons.

"Very well, dearest," said Snape. "I wouldn't want splinters to blemish your lovely behind."

The class stifled their giggles, and Hermione smiled. Her plan was working perfectly, better than she had hoped. Pictures of him in the lurid robes would circulate for years, and the phrase 'blemish your lovely behind', she was sure, would be used much in the weeks to come. Snape, on the other hand, thought Hermione appreciated the compliment, and smiled beatifically at her.

A minute passed. The class were talking quietly amongst themselves, and Severus finally realised that he had been staring at her for too long with an idiotic smile on his face: she hadn't agreed to marry him yet. He tore his gaze away, coughed once to clear his throat, and said sharply,

"Get on with your work, dunderheads!"

The class rolled their eyes, and dragged their books out of their bags. Severus Snape settled back in his worn leather office chair, and then, though he tried to stop occasionally, resumed staring at Hermione, imprinting all her features upon his memory. He was in love with her, so in love, but he was slightly uneasy, worried that she did not like him. But he had nothing to lose by proposing – Hermione was his life, and had, it seemed, always been so.

Hermione could feel herself blushing. She had expected constant declarations of love, and seeing as it was Snape who was afflicted, perhaps something along the lines of 'You are my apprentice. You will do as I say. Now kiss me.', not all this staring, compliments, (though crude), and proposals. Maybe she had got the potion wrong, diluted it somehow, and weakened its effects. No. She couldn't have. Oh well, she thought, even if she had, the sight of Snape in Gryffindor robes had to be enough for him to apologise, or at least to sack her and get it over with. She wouldn't have any trouble getting another job. Realising that she, in turn, had been staring at Snape, she turned to her bag and fished out her notebook, taking as much time as possible.

* * *

At break time, Hermione met with Ginny in the girl's toilets, to discuss the progress of the potion, as they had planned the day before. When Ginny entered the bathroom Hermione was already there, looking slightly frantic.

"Flitwick says congratulations," said Ginny, smiling.

"It's hell," remarked Hermione. But, no pain no gain, I suppose. He OGLES me all the time, and he has tried to corner me after lessons. I think I've lost him now, though."

She chuckled, looking slightly happier. "Have you seen what he's wearing? It's ridiculous"

"Er . . . yes. He's standing outside, waiting for you"

"What? Damn!"

"You should go"

"No . . . what if he tries to take advantage of me or something?"

"Oh, come on. He's being the perfect gentleman, from what I've seen. I think it's sweet, if a little bizarre. Besides, you have your wand."

Hermione remained unconvinced, so Ginny spoke again.

"It would provide maximum entertainment. You should record the whole thing with your wand."

"Well, . . . okay, then"

Hermione exited the bathrooms quickly, looking around furtively to see if there was any possible chance of escape. But to her horror, Snape himself loomed up out of nowhere, smiling in a way that looked both natural and strange at once.

"Hermione. I've been looking for you. Would you do me the honour of accompanying me to the dungeons?"

Hermione threw a frightened look at Ginny, who had followed Hermione out of the bathroom, and then she nodded.

"I'd . . . I'd love to."

Hermione looked up at Snape, who was grinning at the mention of the word love. She saw his proferred arm, and took it gingerly, allowing herself to be led away.

* * *

* * *

Thanks for all the lovely reviews!

smileymrd: THANKYOU - I hope this chapter - and the next one, satisfies. I love the fact you're reading Austen. Ace! I like your premise for your story. I've just started reading it, and I like it.

debjunk: Thanks! I like the fact you're doing SS/OC - I can never seem to leave 'Mione out though!

The Queen of Confusion: Thankyou very much. I am a total POTC fan too. Johnny Depp...Not so much LOTR, but if everyone was the same we would all be scary clones.

duj: Well, Thanks for the criticism. I hope that it's constructive... I don't really see how the unprofessional bit fits in. Isn't humour always unprofessional? And since when was Hogwarts professional? Which schoolsdo you know where poltergeists drop water bombs on people? I hope that you keep reading and thatI can change your mind! I am looking forward to reading your fics - I haven't got time at the moment.

padslet: Thanks. I 'kie' it too. Hope you continue to!

PLEASE REVIEW!


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4 – in which Hermione finds some books**

Hermione couldn't contain the gasp that escaped her as Snape opened the door to his quarters in the dungeons. She had only seen his rooms once before, whilst asking to borrow some of his books for research (The request had been declined, of course), and it was completely different. Although the walls were still cold, grey stone, the window, which had been charmed magically to show the weather outside, even though they were in the bowels of the school, was letting light stream into the room – the curtains had been opened fully for the first time in years. The room which she had walked into contained a desk, a comfy looking armchair who's burgundy leather had been softened with age, a coffee table and an office chair similar to the one in his classroom. The fireplace was newly dusted, and there were no ornaments on the mantelpiece, save for a battered notebook with a plain cover. The desk was open, and in a state of disarray. Many notebooks similar to the one on the mantelpiece lay scattered on its surface, and one lay open, covered in cramped, spidery handwriting. There was, Hermione noticed, a large bookcase in the corner of the room, which contained many dusty tomes, and, nestled among the volumes, a stone pensieve. Hermione loved the room, especially the books. She though that she recognised the distinctive turquoise cover of Stringtham's rare book on Potions Modification, something she had been searching for for months. Severus followed her gaze, and said,

"I was going to ask if you wanted a seat, but you'll probably sift through my books first, yes?"

"Oh," said Hermione, startled. "Well, if I could just take a look . . ." she smiled eagerly. She thought it best to make the most of his time under the influence of the potion; who knew when she could have access to such an exquisite array of books again?

"You can borrow some, if you wish."

"Oh, thankyou, Professor!"

"Please, call me Severus. Or Sev, if you prefer."

"Er . . . if you insist, Severus."

"I keep my favourite books in my bedroom," he remarked, gesturing with one elegant hand to a large oak door which hung slightly ajar. Hermione caught a glimpse of black cotton sheets on a four poster bed, and then he resumed talking.

"When you've exhausted this bookcase, you could have a look at them."

Hermione smiled her thanks, but inwardly groaned. By that time the potion would have worn off, and she would have no chance of accessing the delights locked away in Severus' bedroom. Oops, she thought. I should probably rephrase that thought.

"Would you like a drink, Hermione?"

"Water please, prof- . . . Severus."

He conjured a golden goblet with a flick of his wrist, caught it in mid-air and breathed "Aguamenti!" A fountain of sparklingly clear water filled the cup, which he passed to Hermione.

"I know you've been my apprentice for quite a while, but I've never . . . It's funny really, but I've never asked what particular branch of Potions you're interested in."

After thanking him for the drink, she answered, "Well, I was hoping to learn more about all of the aspects, but I especially like healing with potions, and experimenting with potions."

"Ah," he said. Those go very well together, Hermione. Well chosen. St. Mungo's are always happy when new potions are discovered or invented, For example, since the Wolfsbane Potion was invented ten years ago, thousands of people who suffer from lycanthropy, such as Remus, have felt the benefits. Of course it doesn't pay well or consistently enough to be a job in itself, but it is nonetheless satisfying work. Next year, when classes are split between us, you will have lots of free time for research."

Hermione was enthralled. This man, this nice, unbelievably kind version of Severus Snape, had just agreed with her opinion on Potions! But then, she supposed, he was so enamoured with her that he would probably agree if she commented that the sky was green.

"I suppose so." She replied. "I was wondering if you could tell me something, actually, because I've been looking through books for ages and just can't find it anywhere . . . Who was the inventor of the Wolfsbane Potion?"

"The recipe was left at St. Mungo's by an anonymous potioneer."

"Oh," said Hermione, puzzled. Why would someone avoid taking credit for his or her work? "Do you have any idea who it could possibly have been?" she enquired.

"Well . . ." Snape paused, looking uneasy. "Yes, actually. It was me, Hermione."

"You?" she exclaimed incredulously.

"Yes. But, dearest, it took me along time, and I was inspired by the ideas of others, so –"

"That's no reason not to reveal it was you!" Hermione interrupted. "The invention of the Wolfsbane Potion has been the biggest potioneering development of the century!"

Hermione was in shock. Snape, inventor of the Wolfsbane Potion? She hadn't expected this. Perhaps a renowned potioneer such as Fowler or Hillenbrand, but not him.

"Don't you see, Hermione?" he asked, a touch of anger entering into his low, silky voice. "Dumbledore and I had already agreed by that point that, after the inevitable rise of Voldemort, I would return to him and become a spy for the Order of the Phoenix. Surely you agree that they would be suspicious of a man professing to follow the Death Eaters still if he had eased the lives of so many that the group considered inferior to themselves?"

"Oh. I'm so sorry, sir. I didn't think."

"That's all right, Hermione." After all, he thought, she wasn't to know that he had been one of the Order of the Phoenix at that point; no one did. Skimming over the subject, he added, "After break, we have two free periods. I could show you the first stage of brewing Wolfsbane, and you could brew your own, if you like."

"Thankyou, I would love to."

"Meanwhile," he said, "I'll get myself some coffee, and you can have a look through my books." He pointed his wand at the cabinet, unlocking the door with a non-verbal spell, and strode through another door, presumably leading to the kitchen. He smiled at Hermione as he went, narrowly missing hitting the door.

Hermione walked quickly to the bookcase. Her face lit up as she saw what was stored inside. Stringtham's book was there, as was a narrower thesis, also by him, which she had only ever heard of. As expected, there were many volumes on the Dark Arts, and potions, which negated the effects of dark curses. Many books had pieces of paper sticking out of them, marking important recipes. There were also books written on the subject of Healing, a topic that Snape seemed just as interested in. There was, she noticed with awe, a hand-written manuscript by Dilys Derwent, onetime Headmistress of the school, and Head Healer at St. Mungo's.

She pored over the books, spoilt for choice. It had been so nice of Severus to let her look through them, to borrow them, even. She glanced at the Pensieve, which had been moved from his office after the Occlumency incident in fifth year, as it swirled to form an image of her blushing crimson after being called an 'insufferable know it all' by Snape, and she was reminded of the man who she was supposed to be trying to humiliate by using this potion. But to be honest, it wasn't really working. At first he had been a little starstruck, with the robes and the proposal generating a few laughs, but other than that he was being perfectly personably and friendly. She also felt a bit apologetic now as well. Surely the inventor of the Wolfsbane Potion, this legendary unknown Potions Master, deserved better than some prank from a disgruntled student? She remembered, however, that even geniuses can be horrible, and her resolve strengthened. As she resumed looking through the books, Severus entered, carrying a steaming mug in his long fingers.

"Can't decide, Hermione? I suggest Dilys' manuscript. She was a genius. She writes about the Draught of Living Death in that one, and how she invented it and refined it by testing prototypes on unsuspecting relatives. It's very interesting. She came up with so many ideas. I have her journals in my bedroom."

"Her journals?" Hermione squeaked.

"Yes. A sentence scribbled in the margin of one entry motivated me to attempt to brew a potion to help werewolves. Most of my work has been founded upon he jotted half-ideas. I feel privileged that her portrait told me where she kept her papers."

"Wow. Thankyou, Severus."

She found it hard to look at Snape, because she was so confused when she saw him. It was like he had a twin with an opposite personality who was speaking to her, and she had to remember that this man would be gone in a day and the old Snarky Snape would soon return. Yet that snarky one had still led the same life as this one. He had still done all the research, the Wolfsbane, and still had the raw passion that this man, Severus, was showing for Potions. The bell rang to indicate the end of break, and Hermione placed the book by Dilys on the coffee table and stood up, closing the doors of the bookcase as she did so.

Snape, who had been watching Hermione's figure unfold, said, "Would you like to come through to my labs, then?" and pointed to another door.

"Aren't your labs in the classroom?"

"Not my proper ones. I do all my experimental potions in here," he replied, leading her through.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5– In which there are tears**

Hermione was more than a bit disgruntled that Snape had not been teaching her in his 'proper' laboratories but followed him through anyway. The room was huge, with crate upon crate of potions ingredients stacked in one corner, still to be sorted into the many cupboards lining one wall of the room. The supplies used in classes, and kept in the supply cupboard, now looked meagre at best. There were three cauldrons, an array of knifes and instruments, and about twenty bottles of potions which had been freshly made, which all sat on a worktop, the cauldrons resting on in-built hearths. One cauldron was half full, and Hermione did not recognise it. Severus dismissed it as "Just something I've been working on for a while", and busied himself with finding the ingredients needed for the Wolfsbane Potion. Hermione stepped up to the mysterious cauldron. The contents were pale red, and the surface of the substance was not smooth, but was instead stuck in a permanent ripple, as if a pebble had just been dropped in. She inhaled deeply. She could smell Mandrake Root, Murtlap essence, and, she noted with surprise, Gurdyroot. She knew that Mandrakes were used to reverse the effects of being petrified, (from personal experience), and that Murtlap essence soothed pain, but the only thing that Gurdyroots were known for was for being completely useless. Unless you believed Luna, of course.

"Excuse me, Severus?"

"Yes, dear?"

"Er, yes . . . well, I was wondering, why are you using Gurdyroots in your potion? Do you think that there may be a use for them after all?"

"Well, Hermione," asked Severus, "What do you think that the potion is intended to do?"

"I can't say for certain, but the Murtlap essence suggests soothing, and the Mandrake Root, well, recovering from Petrification, but perhaps a deep state of shock, so maybe . . . I'm sorry, I'm thinking aloud. Is it for torture victims, of trauma sufferers?"

"Very close. You have a Potion's Mistress' nose, Hermione."

Hermione appreciated this compliment much more than the one about her backside. Firstly, she knew that he meant it and it wasn't just a clumsy attempt at flirting, and also, she would far rather be praised for her talent than for her figure.

"In fact," he continued, "The potion is designed to help sufferers of a specific curse."

He waited expectantly, and, sure enough, Hermione exclaimed "The Cruciatus Curse! If you could do that, you would render the worst of every Dark Wizard's weapons useless. Do you think that it could reverse the effects of the curse for people who have already been attacked?" she added thoughtfully, thinking of the Longbottoms.

"I hope so, Hermione. I am curious, though; for surely you think that the Avada Kevadra curse is the worst of the Unforgivable Curses?"

"I used to think that, but after seeing the insanity some people are driven to, and feeling the incredible pain of it myself, I changed my mind. Also, if you think about it terms of what Dark wizards can gain from the use of the Unforgivables, the Cruciatus curse is by far the most . . . productive for them. Most people would far rather accept a quick, painless death than to tell the Dark wizards something important, so Avada Kevadra can only really be used to eliminate obstacles, as it were. Trained wizards can resist the Imperius curse, although it can be very effective, but after hours of torture people no longer care about the fate of mankind, they just want the pain to be over. And even if they don't give in, their minds slowly crumble under the agony of the torture, until they are left alive but insane."

She was whispering by this point. She didn't know why she was telling all this to Snape. Probably because he would forget it all by the next day.

"When . . . when we were searching for the Horcruxes I didn't fear death. I feared being tortured until I gave in, told the, about our search, and in doing so single-handedly stopped the defeat of Voldemort. Even though I practised mind control, I was still terrified."

Severus was shocked. She looked emotional, tears sparkling in her chocolate eyes. He didn't know how to deal with emotional. He wanted to comfort her, make her smile again, but he just didn't know what to do. It was all his fault. He asked that stupid, insensitive question, and as a result here she was, about to cry. He should have known she had suffered the Curse and others in the War. Should he pat her, touch her? He was only standing centimetres away from her, after all. She had become so quiet that he needed to move closer to hear her. But no, he couldn't. She might think he was taking advantage of her vulnerable state. He did the only thing he could. He spoke once more.

"But, Hermione. You didn't You didn't tell them. Even though you were tortured, even though you suffered unbelievable pain," – he shuddered, remembering his own experiences of the Cruciatus Curse – ", you still stood firm."

She looked down quickly from his face to the floor.

"I know," she whispered. "I know. I'm just being silly," she said thickly, wiping her eyes with the sleeve of her robes. Snape forgot his decision, grasping her wrist gently and removing it from her face, brushing a stray tear away tenderly with one of his long white fingers. Hermione looked up, wide-eyed, and Snape drew his hand away suddenly, as though burned. Hermione's mouth opened, she was about to speak, and her large brown eyes were filled with an emotion he could not decipher. He spoke before she could.

"Hermione," he said hoarsely. "You know that I love you. Please forgive my public proposal this morning; I don't know what came over me. But I have to know. You are my life, everything I live for. I admire everything about you, from your wit and thirst for knowledge to your compassion and your soul. Hermione, my darling, will you marry me?"

Hermione blinked. His eulogy was the complete opposite to her rant to him last week, and his true feelings for her. But she liked this man. She really loved, no, liked him. As a friend. A friend! She shook her head slightly, sure that arguing with herself – and indeed, shouting within the confines of her own head – was a sign of madness. She couldn't let herself get too attached to him; he would be gone the next day.

"I'm sorry. I . . . I can't"

" . . .Oh. I understand."

He looked so lost, so dead inside. His eyes had returned to the unfeeling blackness of before the potion. Or maybe they did feel, always had done, but he had just recoiled within himself again. Hermione couldn't just leave him like that. She couldn't tell him she disliked him, not this Snape, but nor could she say yes. Instead she said,

"I mean, it's not that I don't like you, but it's against regulations for us to have a relationship."

His face brightened slightly, although he still looked very miserable.

"Oh. Well. I was not aware of any such rule."

Hermione managed not to flush guiltily. She knew full well there was no rule forbidding teacher/apprentice relationships.

"Anyway, surely my bold Gryffindor does not care for the school rules?"

"I do if they can get me sacked."

"Ah." Snape paused for a while, and then continued with,

"Very well, Hermione. I can wait until your apprenticeship is over. It's only a year, after all, and I love you."

Hermione was extremely uncomfortable. She didn't repeat the sentiment, but merely made a non-committal noise and forced a smile. She didn't know what to think, let alone how to act.

"Before we begin brewing, if . . . Hermione, if it were not against the rules, would you marry me?"

He saw her face, and saw she was unsure of how to reply, and rushed on:

"I know I'm not much, a sad, lonely man much older than you, who shuts out the people he admires and loves for fear that they will hurt him, but please answer me honestly: would you?"

Looking into his eager eyes, she couldn't, just couldn't, say no. "Maybe."

His smile disarmed her. "Probably. You mean probably, don't you?"

"Maybe . . ." She smiled slightly herself, against her will.

"Thankyou, Hermione. I will wait for you . . . Now, I'd better get the ingredients."

Snape made not one mention of the proposal all through the brewing of the potion, merely complimenting Hermione on her skill and her ability to learn quickly. Hermione was having a really good time making the first part of the potion.

"Severus," she said. "Thankyou. You've been so good, and kind, and nice, today."

"Well, you're welcome," said Snape, a little puzzled as to the reason behind the outburst of gratitude. "I'll try to always be so in the future."

Hermione smiled cynically and regretfully. She knew that once the effects of the potion wore off, Snape would be back to normal.

"Oh, by the way Hermione, would you come to lunch with me?"

He saw her stricken face and remarked, "That can't be against regulations, can it? Hermione, I meant what I said. I will wait before attempting to pursue a romantic relationship with you. I would never put you in a position that would compromise your wishes and career. I was merely hoping that we could have a friendly relationship in the meantime."

"Thankyou. I'd be glad to go with you to lunch. But could you . . . your robes . . ."

"What? You don't like them? I put them on especially."

"It's not that, but, well, yes, it is," she said apologetically. "They're rather lurid."

"Oh, thankyou! I agree. I thought you would like the colours, but I really prefer something plainer." He changed his robes back to black with a swish of his wand and smiled. The bell rang, and they began to pack up.

* * *

Oi! You lot!

I was away on my easter holiday - or what my family believe to be a holiday - and I come back and find lots of people have added me to their alerts but are not actually reviewing!! Please review!

It makes me happy to get those little emails that say that you've taken the time to comment on my work. I may withold future chappies until you post some reviews! Good or bad, I don't mind. Just be honest. A sentence will do!!

YAY to smileymrd and debjunk for reviewing!

rant over

xx


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6 – In which there is almost lunch**

"So, where would you like to go for lunch?"

"I don't really know. I haven't been out to Hogsmeade all year."

"Why not?"

He had refused her permission all the time, but she couldn't tell him that.

"Well, we need permission, and I never really found the time to ask."

"Oh. Ok. Well, there's a new place, Umberto's, that has taken the place of the Hog's Head. We could take a look at that."

"That sounds good, Severus." Hermione couldn't believe it. Free lunch and a look around Hogsmeade! Not to mention the new books she got. She felt very strange, however, about the knowledge that Severus would ' wait for her' for an entire year. In fact, she felt . . . achy. Just behind her navel and breastbone, as if she had just grasped an active portkey. He was such a gentleman, this man. Okay, the tendency to propose rather than just ask out someone was a bit strange, but she attributed that to the love potion. It was strong, the strongest, in fact. The knowledge he would suppress all his feelings for her, even just temporarily, in order for her to pursue her career, made her breath catch in her throat. And she had created this man, and he would be gone by the next morning. She knew that she was going to lose this kind, tender Snape, and she was sad.

As they walked down the corridors and out of the Entrance Hall, students thronged around them, hoping for more bizarre behaviour. They were disappointed, however. The most they received for their troubles were continual shushings from Hermione, and points docked 'for gawking inappropriately' from Snape. As they walked up to Hogsmeade, which sparkled in the golden autumn sun, Hermione was struck by a thought, and asked,

"So, professor, what is the Gurdyroot actually for?"

She had, because she was asking a question, reverted to the usual form of address by accident. Severus noticed, quirked an eyebrow, and replied,

"Well, _Miss Granger,_" he said, emphasising the name, "as it happens, the Murtlap essence soothes the trauma and recollections of pain, and the Mandrake root is for bringing the mind out of the state it has been frozen into, petrified if you will, and I need an ingredient that combines the two and makes it permanent. Therefore, I am trying preparing small samples of the potion, each with different extra components added. I am trying Gurdyroots as a last resort. I must have tested over one hundred different ingredients, but when tried on patients nothing happens. Some of them recover partially, only to regress again after a day or so."

Hermione frowned. "Severus, you've tried mint and thyme, haven't you?"

"Of course. The mint seemed to help pain relief for immediate victims, and the thyme increased the period of recovery time and level of coherency for long term sufferers. Those were my two best results. How did you know that they would work well?" he asked, stunned.

"I read," she replied matter-of-factly. "But you misunderstand me. I meant, have you tried them both together?"

"Well, no, but . . . I thought that as the combinations of all possible ingredients would be endless, I should better start off by trying one ingredient at a time and combining the better results."

"That's a good idea. We work well as a team. When you get round to it, could you tell me how the combination works? How do you test it, anyway?"

"I will add the herbs the instant I return to my laboratories. And, Augustus Pye, I don't know if you know him, he's head healer now, and he puts me in touch with families of victims who are willing to give them trial drugs in the hope of any progress whatsoever."

"Oh. Well, good luck with your potion."

"Thankyou. Umberto's is just on your left."

"Have you ever been here before?"

"Never. Since Aberforth packed up to go and open a goat farm in the Highlands, I haven't even come up to Hogsmeade. I haven't heard much about it either."

"Neither have I," said Hermione. This was true. Ginny didn't want to make Hermione jealous so refrained from mentioning Hogsmeade at all, or any of her other outings.

"It looks . . . expensive," she observed. This, again, was very accurate. The sign was ornate, with detailed golden lettering and, through the windows, Hermione could see large mahogany tables and waiters in dress robes.

"Severus, we'll split the fee."

"Oh no. I'll pay."

Hermione felt bad. Taking Snape down a peg was one thing, but emptying his pockets was another altogether.

"No, don't worry. I have enough."

As it turned out, however, neither of them needed to pay a thing. When they entered the restaurant, still bickering good-naturedly about the distribution of the bill, a young, shiny waiter, a few years older than Hermione, sauntered up and indicated seats. As he was leading them to their place, he spoke to Hermione.

"I didn't know Snape had a daughter. Who'd marry him? I get off in half an hour. After this meal, do you want to come and have a look around with me, and ditch the old man?"

Hermione opened her mouth in anger. She was furious. Was this the treatment that Snape received every day? How dare this man say that; he didn't know Snape well enough to hate him!

However her rant was over before it began as she was interrupted by Severus himself, who placed a restraining hand upon her shoulder and said silkily,

"I may be an older man than you, but I am not a deaf one. I am of the opinion that Hermione, my apprentice, is perfectly capable of looking round Hogsmeade by herself. As for your question, I think that it is none of your business, but I would be glad to inform you that there is a woman who loves me. She prefers brains to brawn, of which you have neither, and no, she is not my mother. Now, if you'll excuse us, we'll take our business elsewhere."

And slowly, purposefully, he steered Hermione out of the door, leaving a dumbstruck waiter and a very angry manager.

"That was marvellous, Severus!" she said, forgetting her rule about not getting too attached to him and hugging him. He looked rather taken aback, and tensed up at the sudden contact, raising his eyebrows.

"What? Friends hug each other all the time . . ."

"Of course."

"So, what should we do about lunch?"

"You know, I'm not really all that hungry."

"Neither am I"

"Do you want to take a look around Hogsmeade, then?"

"Absolutely."

Hermione was a little subdued as they walked away from Umberto's. She was thinking. And reproaching herself. After the hug, she had realised. That was the moment that she realised that she was falling in love with Severus Snape. But not the real Severus. She was falling in love with a dream, a man who wasn't real, and didn't exist.

* * *

Okay, here is number six. Thanks for the reviews! I know a couple of you want to see post-potion snape, so I'll update soon.

In about two minutes.

I'm sort of busy right now with revision etc so you may get a few chapters and then a LONG pause and then a couple more.

I've already finished all of this a while ago. Its all typed up and divided and ready to go.

But I feel good when I get reviews, so I'm not updating everything at once. I won't take too long, though!


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7 –in which histories are discussed**

She couldn't help laughing when Severus entered Honeydukes for the first time since his schooldays, popped a sherbet ball in his mouth, and began panicking when he realised that he was hovering. They bought some Every Flavour Beans and sugar-spun quills, and continued on to Zonko's, where Snape purchased a new wizard chess set. Hermione remarked that she was no good at chess and didn't really see the point, and Snape replied,

"Well, its all about logic, Hermione, and planning and tactics and foresight and cunning, and strategy and brains, elements in which, I am afraid, you are sorely lacking."

She glanced sharply up at him. The potion couldn't be wearing off, could it? Snape smiled. He had been joking. She returned the smile.

"I could teach you, if you like. I get tired of being on both sides all the time."

They walked in silence, not really heading in any direction at all, Snape planning which gambits to teach her first, and Hermione reflecting upon his last comment with a thoughtful frown. Eventually they stopped, and leaned on the fence which enclosed the Shrieking Shack. It was falling down by now. The place held a lot of memories for both Hermione and Severus.

"Severus?"

"Yes, Hermione?"

"I don't know anything about you. Earlier you mentioned that you had already defected to Dumbledore ten years ago. But how did you become a Death Eater, and why did you change your mind? – I'm sorry. It doesn't matter. I'm being too nosy."

"Not at all," said Snape, sighing. He remained gazing at the derelict, crumbling house, and said in a low, bland voice,

"Please reserve judgement until the end, Hermione. I knew you would ask me this at some point." He sighed again, and began.

"I was born to Eileen and Tobias Snape. My mother was intelligent, and my father too. My mother was a Ravenclaw, my father a Slytherin. They fought constantly. I often went out of the house to escape the arguing. One day I came back to find my mother gone and my father locked in a full body bind upon the floor. I was fourteen. I left him there for a day, then released him. I lied to him, pretending that I had not come across the spell that my mum had used on him. I was angry with him for making her leave.

She left me a letter. My mother. When I opened my trunk to pack for school, a voice asked me my name and when I replied the parchment appeared. I still have it. It said.

'Dear Severus, dearest Severus.

I am writing you this letter to try and explain. I must leave. You have school to escape him. When you are home he is behaving well. Believe me. In three years time, Severus, you can leave him. I know that I shall never see you again,'" – here Snape's carefully calm voice faltered. – "'but you shall always be in my heart and in my thoughts. Remember darling Severus, that even though Tobias gave you his name, you are still a Prince. You alone have the power to decide what is best for you. You do not bow to others and you do not let yourself be led anywhere that you do not wish to go. I forgot this, and I ended up trapped as a result. You were the only good thing in my life, and I know that your childhood has not been a happy one thanks to me. I am truly sorry for having to leave you like this, but you board the Hogwarts Express three days after I write this, and, Severus, I wish you well. Try to follow your heart always.

Yours forever,

Eileen Prince'

I hardly remember what she looked like. All I can remember was her voice, soft and low and singing, and shrill and angry and shouting, and her embraces when I was a young boy, smelling of elderflower and hay. I was so angry. I was angry with my father for making my mother leave, and yet I was also angry with her, impossibly angry. I thought that she did not consider me a good enough reason to stay, that I wasn't important enough for her. And all that I had to remember her by was a letter.

As a Slytherin at school I was constantly being exposed to the darker sides of Hogwarts. The other pupils from different houses would have nothing to do with me. The only person who even acknowledged me in the corridors was Lily Potter.

I just remember being so angry. With everyone. I was angry with the Headmaster for being so 'understanding'. I was angry with Lily for being a better person than I was, with her unconditional friendship, and I was angry with myself for being a Slytherin.

I threw myself into my education. I invented new charms, and devised better ways of making potions. I went through the year unfeeling, not talking to anyone. I was 'that weird Snape kid' to every one of the pupils, and 'that poor Snape' to the teachers.

I went home in the summer to discover that my father was gone. I was glad. I had the house to myself. I tried to trace my mother using every magical method that I knew, but I couldn't find her. She didn't want to be found by my father, and that meant that I could not seek her out either. I wished that my father had left first. Then my mother would have stayed. During that summer, I learnt to forgive my mother for leaving. She had had no other option but to make a clean break. She probably even thought that it was better for me.

When I returned to school for my fifth year the bullying from Potter and the others got worse. We had always hated each other. Lily remained unfathomably pleasant towards me, even though I tried to make her leave me alone. One of my charms, Levicorpus, had spread throughout the school. Lucius and Bellatrix, in the years above me, tried to befriend me for my usefulness, but I didn't want to know.

Then, after exams, there was . . . an incident. Potter and the others were even worse than usual. Lily helped me, defended me from them. I resented her, called her . . . a mudblood. I don't know why. I was angry with Potter. I didn't want her fighting my battles for me. I didn't like charity. Hell, I hadn't even told the authorities that I was living alone. But those are no excuses. There are no excuses. The use of words like that was the reason that I didn't associate with my Slytherin classmates. I was the only half-blood Slytherin in my year, with muggle grandparents on my mother's side. I had betrayed my mother, Lily's kindness, and myself when I used that word. And it all started then.

Malfoy and Lestrange applauded me, and 'recruited' me. I had felt included, almost, in their applause, supported in my anger. But they only wanted my knowledge. My ideas soon got me noticed by Voldemort, who made me a Death Eater at the end of my seventh year. I avoided Lily whenever possible. She once sent me an owl. I never opened it, but sent it back with the seal intact.

I was applying to teach Potions at Hogwarts when I heard the end part of a prophecy and told the Dark Lord. He took it to mean that Harry Potter and his family should be killed. I went back to my father's lonely house after meeting Voldemort that night, and woke up in the middle of a restless sleep knowing that I could not keep doing this. I looked in the mirror and I didn't see me. I had had ambitions, hopes, dreams, and I had amounted to that pitiful thing staring back at me; a man who's information would lead to the death of the only other person, apart from his mother, who had ever offered him any kindness. That night, I contacted Dumbledore. He used Legilimency upon me to test my resolve. He taught me Occlumency, and in due course I became a spy.

I felt better than I could ever remember. I had a purpose. To save Lily, and to overthrow the Dark Lord. But . . . but then she died. Her and Potter died. Because of me. And then after that all that I could do was defeat Voldemort. I didn't care whether I lived or died in the process. I grew to be friends with Dumbledore, and then, of course, he made me kill him, as he was dying already. I had to keep my position as a spy. Everyone hated me. I had to work from the inside, helping you.

And then, finally, he was gone. Instead of feeling free, I felt lost. I had nothing to live for or to strive for. Then Minerva gave me you, and then this morning, this morning I realised that I loved you."

He coughed slightly, and wiped his face. Hermione placed her hand on his, which was gripping the fence tightly.

"You are so brave, Severus. For . . . for what it's worth, today I realised I love you, as you are, like this."

"It's worth a lot," he muttered. "Tergeo," he said quietly, and siphoned the tears off of his cold pale face.

"So," he said, with a weak chuckle. "Enough about me. Tell me about your life."

She squeezed his hand, and told him of her time with her parents, unaware that she was a witch. She told him how her classmates laughed at her for being clever, until one of them started dancing and was not able to stop. She hadn't known how she did it. She told him how at first she thought that the Hogwarts letter was a joke. Then she sighed, and said,

"It's awful really. I will be remembered as a member of the Golden Trio, when I didn't really do anything special, but you were far, far braver than me, and . . ."

"I don't mind. You deserve every ounce of your glory."

Eventually they turned and walked slowly back to class, hand in hand.

This one is quite dreary, but don't worry! Humour comes back into it a bit later.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8 – in which one story ends**

Severus and Hermione had a class after lunch, and the pupils contained within the group of sixth year Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs were disappointed to note that the robes had returned to black, but did however notice the smiles that Snape was constantly giving Hermione.

After school, once Severus had escorted her back to her rooms, Ginny came up to discuss the day with her.

"Oh my god!" she exclaimed as she entered the room, hugging Hermione.

"How bad was it?" she asked concernedly.

"It wasn't, really," said Hermione morosely. "He was kind, and . . . sweet."

"Sweet? _Him?_"

"Yes. You wouldn't expect it of Severus, would you?"

"Severus? First name terms?" she inquired jokingly.

"No!" burst Hermione angrily. "He insisted I call him it!"

"Well, he isn't here now, so you can call him 'the git' again."

"I never called him a git!"

"Ooh! Hermione loves Severus!" she said gleefully, emphasising the three syllables of his first name. "You want to _hug _him! You want to _kiss _him! You want to _mmm _him . . . eew. Sev and 'Mione, sitting in a tree, K, I, S, S, I-"

"No, I don't," began Hermione solemnly. Ginny shut up and listened. "I could love this Severus, this nice, loving, romantic Severus, but not the man who I am apprenticed to."

"Oh," said Ginny, feeling more than a little apologetic. "Well, you might not be apprenticed to him by the end of tomorrow."

"I don't care if he sacks me – McGonnagal said that Arithmancy is still available."

"Well, at least we had fun," said Ginny, sensing Hermione's miserable mood.

"I suppose."

When Ginny had gone, she went to bed, and as she lay there she realised that she loved a man who would be gone. A man as sure to disappear as one sentenced to execution. She never truly loved anyone before, just flattered by Viktor and having a slight crush on Ron. Trust her to fall in love with a fiction.

The next day, at the Breakfast Table, everyone was waiting for Severus Snape, wondering what antics – or indeed outfit – that that day would bring. Hermione glanced at the clock from her place on the Gryffindor House Table. There were five more minutes until the potion wore off and Severus, her Severus, would be gone forever. Four minutes . . .

Her food lay untouched upon her plate.

Three minutes . . .

He was late. He was usually in earlier than this. Silently thanking any gods that may be out there, she continued to watch her love's remaining minutes tick away.

Two minutes . . .

The pupils were now watching the clock as well. Was he even going to turn up for breakfast? Hermione thought that she could hear the clock ticking – or was that just her heart beating, drumming out her fear of the confrontation to come and the grief at what was to be left behind.

With just one minute to go, Snape burst in the heavy doors, cloak billowing, and shouted "Hermione!"

Hermione stood up hurriedly, wooden chair clattering to the floor in her rush.

"I'm sorry for shouting this out in front of everyone, but I'm so happy and I thought that you should know straight away. I was up all night thinking about you, and then this morning I checked at the library and the rule forbidding romantic relationships only applies to ones between teachers and students! So you can marry me after all! So what do you say, Hermione?"

Hermione couldn't bear to watch his eager happy face, unaware that he would have no future with her. What blissful ignorance. She glanced at the clock. Ten seconds to go.

"I say . . . Severus, I say . . ." What could she say? There were six seconds to go. "I say, . . . come over here, and I'll answer your question."

He began to stride purposefully up the middle of the four rows of house tables, in between Gryffindor and Hufflepuff. He was going so quickly that Hermione thought that he might reach her before the potion wore off. But, just metres away from her, he staggered and stopped, doubling over and gasping sharply as if a cannonball had hit him in the stomach. Bleary-eyed, he reacted instinctively.

"Pupils, I suggest you stop staring and start eating, if you treasure your house points."

Hermione sighed. Severus was gone, and this man, this horrible, snide man, had taken him away from her. And he would have no recollection of the past twenty-four hours. She wasn't sure if this was a good thing or a bad thing. On one hand, he wouldn't remember her personal outpourings, but on the other, it made it seem like the person she fell in love with hadn't even existed.

"Sonorous," she said wearily. "It is over. Students of Hogwarts, have I proved to you that I know what I'm doing when it comes to Potions?"

There was raucous applause and loud cheering, but Hermione still felt empty inside.

Snape looked at Hermione, who was still standing up, eyes sparkling and hair everywhere, and comprehension dawned in his black eyes.

"Miss Granger. A word in my office. Now."

Silence spread around the Hall as pupils realised that the fun was now over. Then Dennis Creevey, an emulator of the Weasleys, shouted in a loud, carrying voice,

"I thought it had worn off!"

There was nervous laughter. Snape scowled at the pupils, and strode up to Hermione, grabbing her arm roughly – here there was more laughter – yanked her away from the table and marched her out of the Hall. Professor McGonnagal looked concerned, but then Flitwick leaned over and said,

"From what I've heard, she can take care of herself."

* * *

Yes, yes. Snape is back.

Want to see what he says to her? A couple of reviews later (I'm not greedy) and then you get that chappie.

I know it's short, but hey, I didn't want to clutter it up.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9 – in which hermione suffers**

The pair walked briskly, in silence, to the darkness of the dungeons. Snape, still gripping Hermione's upper arm tightly with his long white fingers, forced her into his office and slammed the door shut.

"Miss Granger, kindly explain just what potion you felt the urge to put me under the influence of for the last day. A Weasley concoction?" he asked, voice low and dangerous.

" . . . No," said Hermione.

"Don't tell me you attempted to invent your own potion," he said venomously.

" . . . No," repeated Hermione. "But I could have, if I had wanted to."

He noted that, even though she looked terrified, the pride.

"What, then?"

Hermione paused, looking at the ground, the walls, the pickled things in jars behind him, anywhere but his eyes.

"Tell me."

"I used Amortentia."

"Amortentia! You are not capable of brewing such a potion. Especially not a temporary one." Hermione flushed pink with anger, and, fear forgotten, replied, eyes suddenly blazing into his,

"I think you'll find I was."

Snape, refusing to acknowledge that she had even spoken, enquired silkily,

"Who, then, did I become infatuated with?"

"Me, sir"

"Did you design it so it would be you?" he asked, a look of faint disgust upon his face.

"No, simply the first person you saw after drinking it," she said, adding silently 'Don't flatter yourself.'

"I thought that it would be more interesting that way."

"Miss Granger, I fear that you are mistaking me for someone who is interested in your opinion upon the matter," he stated, in that deep voice of his, now no longer complimentary, but insulting.

"What did I do, as a result of your insolence?"

"Well," she said, blushing crimson from the jibe, "It wasn't that bad . . ."

Snape sighed. That insufferable, disrespectful girl was never going to tell him.

"Legilimens!" he cried, raising his wand suddenly.

He took a step back.

"Er, you practise Occlumency, " he stated poisonously, as if it was a crime.

"And Legilimency." Hermione despised this man, and was keen to show him that she was cleverer than he had thought. "I will, however, give the memories to you, and that is all."

She realised then that perhaps she shouldn't have cried over the Cruciatus Curse, spilling out her fears that she had had at the time of the war to Severus Snape. But there was nothing to be done. She had to show him. She closed her eyes, sorting out her muddled mind, and said quietly, closing her eyes,

"Go on then, look at them"

"Legilimens."

They stood like that for some time; Hermione reliving the past day as Snape pried through her memories. They reached the third proposal, and Snape lowered his wand, breaking the contact behind his mind and hers, and pinched the bridge of his nose with his fingers.

"Sir?" asked Hermione tentatively, opening her eyes.

"Not that bad? Not that bad?! I will be humiliated for weeks!"

"That was the general idea, sir. Still, it could have been worse. You were very . . . gentlemanly."

Snape snorted and said, " Miss Granger, please leave. Do not speak a word of what I said when under the influence of the potion."

"Of course I wouldn't! But . . ."

"_Leave, _Miss Granger."

"Yes, sir. I am sorry, sir. I just wanted to prove to you that I can be a Potions Mistress."

"Leave, _now._"

Hermione left.

Professor Severus Snape sank his head into his hands, grateful he would not be called upon to teach for another ten minutes, He stood up wearily, and went to get some Firewhisky from behind his secret panel. But the bottle was empty, and had been since Hermione had announced her strike.

Damn Granger.

She was clever, clever enough to be an excellent Potions Mistress, he knew. And her grasp of the concept of revenge was most secure. Her schemes were so dastardly a Slytherin would be glad to call them their own. He knew all of these things. But he didn't have to admit them to himself. Why did he have to admit anything where Hermione was concerned? She was an insufferable, know it all, touchy woman, who he had, in his fit of infatuation, told his life story to.

Damn.

The bell signifying the second period rang, and the class filed in, grinning inanely. It was all Snape could do not to groan. It had taken him years, years to achieve a reputation, if not respect, at Hogwarts, and then that damnable Granger had shattered it in the space of a day. The class was composed of first years from Slytherin and Gryffindor. As they walked past Snape to their seats, Bernard Macnair snickered.

"A mudblood, what a choice!"

Snape responded immediately.

"It was no choice of mine. And ten, no, twenty points off Slytherin for the use of an inappropriate word."

"Yeah, you shut up, Macnair!" piped Dennis' younger sister, Harriet Creevey. "It was a compulsion potion, do you ever listen in class? He couldn't choose, and Hermione's ace anyway!"

Snape nearly swore. Respect from the Gryffindors and ridicule from the Slytherins? Granger was going to pay.

'But how?' he mused. 'I can't break off the apprenticeship; that would mean she has won. How had she obtained the materials necessary to make such a potion, anyway? Thievery?'

He paused in his thoughts, then went to check the cupboards and his personal supplies.

'No. She couldn't have bought them herself. She hasn't left the school grounds once this year, because I haven't given her permission. That friend of hers, the Weasley girl, has been allowed out by Filius, though. Could she . . .? I doubt it. Time to go to Diagon Alley is scarce, and it would have taken at least two trips, which couldn't possibly have occurred over the last two weeks. Besides, if I were Hermione I wouldn't let Ginny go and get the ingredients, she might be unreliable. Therefore, she must have gone to an authority higher than my own to get materials . . .

Minerva'

Thanks for all the lovely reviews!

- my face when I saw the emails alerting me!

SARAH(Queen of Confusion): Thanks! Hope this satisfies.

bookworm 33: I'm sorry! I'm sorry! offers up chapter FORGIVE ME!

FascinatingSnape: Well, you're welcome. I happen to like it too! This one does have a happy ending. Eventually. Though he is pretty angry . . .

debjunk: Wow. High praise indeed. Hope I continue to impress! The whole "YOU ARE A PRINCE" thing was from a friend going on about surnames constantly.

notwritten: smiles I WILL! But it's hard to smile sometimes when you're revising Greek. Blehh. What's Earth hour?? I feel left out!

El Neneo: It was all down to you. You scared me into updating! I hope to keep you hooked!

beze: He's pretty much typical Snape here, which is always good. I feel happy to be discovered, like a gem. Can I be an emerald?

EruthiadwenGreenleaf(a.k.a. Tish): Wow. Your penname is long! What does it mean? I'm glad it's funny. If it fell flat I would be a little sad.

cookiebubblegiggle: Thankyou! I love you for reviewing! I do try to keep him believable, and I hope I can keep up to expectations! (I LOVE YOUR penname. It basically sums me up. mmm...cookies!)

lhw: You made me laugh. So I updated. I'm sure you're not that greedy, though. After all, you did say please!

ladyAlyafaelyn (Fae): I didn't mention you earlier - your review got overlooked. I'm sorry! So sorry! NO REVIEWS SHALL EVER BE OVERLOOKED AGAIN! (And if by any chance they are, send me an angry personal message. Do you think this is good enough?

I 3 you all. You make my days, filled with revision, bearable! I hope I brighten your days too! It looks like Minerva is in for it now. Eek!

xx


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10 – in which the headmistress gets an earful**

Minerva McGonnagal, Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, was sitting in her office at break time, with her stockinged feet upon her desk. She was holding a mug of hot tea, and telling all the portraits the latest news.

" . . . And then _he_ said 'Miss Granger, a word in my office,' in that voice of his, you know, the low, 'I'm a very scary person' one he loves to turn on unruly pupils? Anyway, he then led her out of the Hall. In fact, I should probably go and check in on –"

"Excuse me, Professor?" said the rasping voice of the gargoyle.

"What is it?" snapped Minerva irritably, slightly peeved at having her narrative interrupted.

"Sorry to interrupt, but there's someone outside the door. He's getting rather impatient, actually."

"Oh, who?" she asked innocently, already having quite a good idea who the mystery person may be.

"The bat. The lovey one. Hneh, hneh, hneh," it sniggered wheezily.

A raised voice could be heard to exclaim, "I am not a lovey one! Ow! Bugger . . ."

"He just kicked me, Miss." Interjected the stone statue reproachfully.

"I suppose you had better let him in then."

As Severus entered, she said "Come in, Severus, and do try not to kick stone. I find it rather hurts."

She removed her feet from the desk, and indicated a large and nearly empty bowl on the table.

"Sherbet lemon?" she offered, and Snape could have sworn that her eyes were twinkling.

He had prepared a speech, a politely belittling and poisonous speech. But all this was forgotten.

"My god, woman," he said. "You channel Albus' spirit."

The former Headmaster peered down his crooked nose at Snape from his position in one of the portraits upon the wall and said scoldingly,

"I am offended, Severus. I was by far more meddlesome than her when I was alive."

"So you admit that she was meddlesome?"

Simultaneously, Albus replied with a yes, and Professor McGonnagal with an angry "No!". Minerva sent a glare at Albus, and Snape quirked an eyebrow and said, willing his lips not to twist up at the sides (they didn't – he had had a lot of practise at keeping a straight face),

"Did you or did you not aid Miss Granger in the operation of her infantile prank?"

"I did," she confessed. But before he could launch into a rant, she continued.

"But don't you think you deserved it? I mean, honestly, never letting her learn anything, ignoring her, and those snide comments all of the time! Anyone would think that I had forced her upon you!"

She waited expectantly, but Snape did not respond. The canvas to her right coughed and Albus said,

"Ah, Minerva. I can explain."

"Please, don't trouble yourself."

"Do go on, Albus," said the Headmistress, raising her eyebrows at the two men. Snape was scowling like a petulant child.

"You see, he still feels rather, how would you say it, put out about being constantly suspected about being 'the bad guy', even though that was what we were aiming for. And as he cannot insult Harry or Ron upon a regular basis, I am afraid to say that he is taking out his resentment upon Hermione. This is true, is it not, Severus?"

Still glaring grumpily, he replied,

"Well . . . not in so many words."

"He means yes," Dumbledore whispered loudly.

Minerva blinked twice, and then said, "I see. Did you hire her over Malfoy purely for the purpose of taunting her?"

"No!" Severus responded indignantly. "You and I both know that she possesses the most raw Potioneering skill that Hogwarts had seen in years!"

"So will you sack her, or keep her?"

"Keep her," said Severus Snape sulkily.

"And will you attempt to behave in a manner that is a little more . . . teacherly towards her? Start again, as it were?" she enquired gleefully.

"Perhaps."

"Then that, I believe, is that. I'll have a word with Hermione as well, and you should be working together again by tomorrow."

Snape turned to exit the room, but then he paused.

"You helped her. Why?"

"Curiosity. Pure curiosity. I haven't had a good laugh in ages. Also, I too am of the belief that she has the ability to become a great Potions Mistress and I wanted others, you especially, to be reminded of that."

"If I must," he said, turning back to the door once more.

"Forgive me, I am curious again. You hardly sound disappointed. You never raged and shouted, or even paced and hissed. Have you come up with some sort of plan?"

"Yes"

"No more slipping of potions, or any hexing, please. I've had quite enough disruption already this term."

" . . . Oh . . .Ok . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . That is no longer a problem. I've thought of another one now. Good night, Headmistress."

"Goodnight."

As he left, she wondered. And Albus wondered. And they wondered together. This certainly was turning out to be an interesting year.

Severus strode to the dungeons, to prepare the apprentice lessons for the week ahead. He planned to give Hermione large quantities of complicated work to do, and lots of essays, overworking her until she either requested less work, quit, or started producing substandard work, in which case his snide comments would be justified. He couldn't sack her without reason, but he could push her into giving up her job, and then she could finally become someone else's problem, although hopefully, with a damning reference, not as a Potions apprentice.

He underestimated Hermione Granger. The next day in the Great Hall, she walked up to him and said, smiling,

"I would be delighted to be a proper Potions Apprentice for you, Professor. I'm so glad that we could fix this."

"Miss Granger, your breakfast will get cold."

"It's continental, Severus," she replied, grinning, and then she blushed. She had forgotten that this was no longer her Severus.

And sure enough, she was sharply reminded of the contrast between the two men, identical in appearance, when he rolled his eyes, and muttered,

"Whatever. And that will be ten points off Gryffindor for not addressing me by my proper titles, which are, as you very well know after eight years under my tuition, 'sir', or 'Professor', or 'Professor Snape'."

She was angry again. And more than a little sad.

"Firstly, _Severus_," she said boldly, stressing his name and speaking it slowly and clearly, so that he could understand that this time it was no accident and was intended purely to infuriate, "it was a slip of the tongue, but secondly, according to the school rules, I am permitted to call you whatever I want, and vice-versa, so therefore no points should have been deducted. Happily, you can't take House points off someone who is no longer a pupil of the school, so no points will have been lost. That's lucky, isn't it?"

"Very well!" he said, frustrated. Then, sneeringly,

"Very well, Little Miss Know It All, . . . Creevey! Ten points off for talking too loudly during breakfast time."

"Touché, Severus."

He opened his mouth to retort to this insufferably quick-witted woman, but she had already walked back to her seat at the staff table, and was staring at her croissant.

He groaned. Another year of this? He wasn't sure if he could take this . . . this _backchat_ from her for much longer.

Hermione walked away from Professor Snape and sat down heavily at her table, where she was once again beside all the other teachers. Luckily, she wasn't next to Snape. She already had another year's worth of lessons reminding her that she had no man in her life and that she only one who she had ever liked was gone. Forever. Having him sitting beside her at the Breakfast Table would just be too much.

* * *

A/N: To all reviewers, thanks.

I will reply to you via review reply thingy from now on, as it's getting a little boring for other readers reading this mass of communication at the end!

EruthiadwenGreenleaf: Cool! I like the name. He's pretty angry, yeah. For an ex-spy, this is about as uncontrolled as he gets! Apart from when he's in love, of course, but that comes later.. . .

lhw: Minerva can hold her own, almost. She's good at logic, and that's the only thing Snape lets persuade him.

bookworm33: I like that I'm unpredictable, but I hope I don't go totally off course and leave you stranded in an awful fic! (I'll try not to. . .) He gets gradually more dastardly.

heartsforseverus: Please don't kill me. Then there would only be one literary society member! What research? I guess I'm just such a HP nut already that filling in the details comes naturally.

debjunk: I think it's less embarrassment, and more a feeling of shock. How dare she? etc. Also, he's busily plotting revenge. How did you think Minerva fared? I'd go for better, because Hermione was all cut up inside.

notwritten: smiling so my cheeks hurt! Earth hour, I didn't know about. Waah! Do you think I should have my own special hour?

The Queen of Confusion: Thanks! This one'sa bit late, so you're getting two chappies in a row!

ladyAlyafaelyn: Sorry! I'm so sorry! But yeah, as was implied in the chapter, he shall plot and scheme. As much as the rules can allow him. Resulting in yes, tension. He's quite mean, actually.

CCSLover13: I'm not really studying THAT hard. Mostly writing HP/DM slash. The details are bugging me though, and it was a subplot in something else(yes, another SS/HG!) which exploded. Authored anything?

wingsrookie: no! I'm sorry for keeping everyone waiting! I hope you enjoy the rest too!

Go on, review! I shall reply personally!

xx


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11 – in which Hermione mourns**

That day there were Potions lessons until break, and then Hermione would have apprentice lessons. During Potions class, Hermione took notes. Or rather, she pretended to. Since the incident with the Amortentia, it was as if an alarm had gone off in her head. She would never, never find anyone to spend her life with. Well, she could find someone, but not someone she loved and who would love her too. Since she was the only girl of a marriageable age who was not taken (Luna had hooked up with Neville during the War, and Tonks was married to Lupin) who had helped in the War, indeed one of the trio, she had guys lining up to 'make her acquaintance'. But to be frank, they were all exceptionally dim. It seemed she was destined to die alone and unfulfilled, clever and witty, yet lonely and empty, rather like Snape. But not like Snape. This Snape, it seemed, did not feel any emotions whatsoever. Though she received supportive smiles and congratulations from the pupils, her mind drifted from the class, and she was shocked, nay, horrified, to find herself doodling a smiling man with thick brows, long dark hair, and a hooked nose by the time that the bell rang.

As the class left, she hurriedly put her pad in her bag, and zipped it up as the class left. He was gone. Gone. Dead, really. And there was no bringing him back. She needed to remember that.

Snape spoke, startling her.

"Today you will be brewing Felix Felicis."

"Thankyou sir . . . I mean, thankyou_, Severus_."

The name had seemed to annoy him before, and she was hoping for the same reaction this time. After all, he took away the person that she had fallen in love with. Who wouldn't be slightly angry, even if they knew it was irrational to blame him, perhaps especially if they knew it was not a logical emotion to have? However, she was disappointed.

Severus' mouth quirked. She was continuing with this foolishness, was she? Very well, so would he.

"In my proper laboratories, Little Miss Know It All,"

Hermione led the way. She remembered every inch of his quarters. The entire day seemed fixed in her memory. She almost wished it had never happened. Almost. He shut the doors to hi other rooms as they entered, and shut his desk. The curtains were now drawn, a crack of light entering the room. When she entered the labs, she saw that the Wolfsbane potion that they had started just two short days ago had been stored to wait until it was ready for the second stage.

"Will we be continuing with that later, si – Severus?"

"Perhaps."

Hermione set to work, fetching ingredients and brewing. She was losing herself in the therapeutic stirring, measuring, and chopping of the ingredients. Snape summoned a book and began to read, keeping half an eye on Hermione in case he needed to correct her at any point.

"I expect you to have reached the halfway stage by the end of next week."

Hermione thought quickly. It was Thursday already, and with the amount of time that she spent at lessons, that just wouldn't be possible. Surely he knew that?

"Can I come back and do it after school? I won't be able to finish it otherwise, Severus."

He hadn't seen this one coming; he had expected her trying in vain to brew it quickly and taking a catastrophic shortcut, or not completing it altogether. She was too . . . rational. He improvised.

"You are expected to do so. It would be substandard effort of you not to work after lessons on your potions. However, please work in the classrooms. I will move the potion there at the end of every school day, and any further assignments will be put there or the weekends as well . . . Little Miss Know It All."

She was glad to be able to work on her potion, and any future potions, but annoyed that her name-calling hadn't had much effect. She went on the offensive.

"Thanks, Sev"

He coughed

"Sev?"

"Don't you remember? You did ask me to call you it . . ."

He was silent for a fraction of a second, then said, "Its time to add the hellebore, Little Miss Know It All."

She smiled. Hermione one, Snape nil. She began to pack her things. It was almost lunchtime.

"Oh, and Little Miss Know It All?"

"Yes?"

He hit her where he hoped it would hurt.

"I'll need my book back. Bring it with you to Potions class after lunch."

Low blow, she thought. But she was prepared. She knew he would come after the books.

"There's no need. I've already finished it. In fact, I have it with me."

She took the book out of her bag.

"Thankyou, Severus. It was really interesting."

"It was not me who lent you that book."

"I know," acknowledged Hermione regretfully.

Snape found himself wanting to know if the only person who had read the manuscript aside from the author and himself agreed with her theories upon the Draught of Living Death in Defence Against The Dark Arts, but he restrained himself. Conversation with Granger? Never.

As she handed him the book, walking over to his stool, she stopped, staring at the white hands that had brushed tears off her face just two days ago, and sighed.

"It's time for lunch, Little Miss Know It All"

"I know that, Severus."

She hastily let go of the book – he had to lunge forward to catch it – and then turned and walked quickly up the corridor, outpacing even the large stride of Severus Snape, her bushy hair flying behind her as she cried for the death of the man she loved.

Snape didn't see Hermione at lunch.

* * *

Review? Please? Any guesses what'll happen next? Any concrit? Any. . . looks up hopefully praise?

xx


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12 – in which there is an unintentional duet**

When lessons began after the meal, however, she was perfectly composed, excepting one incident. She was taking notes, and then she looked at her page, scoring violently at the pad, her face twisted into one of consternation. She ripped out the page from the Muggle pad (she only used parchment for essays now; parchment was so tiresome), and crumpled it up, twisting it as if it was the neck of someone she particularly wished to throttle. Snape, watching from his desk, raised his eyebrows. She looked up, and, seeing his expression, scowled furiously.

As she filed out of the class after the pupils, he murmured,

"Trouble with Pepper-up Potion, Little Miss Know It All?"

"Not at all, Severus," she replied calmly, though her hand tightened upon her shoulder bag.

"I will be doing some more Felix Felicis tonight."

She didn't see Snape when she came down to the Potions area after her dinner, before curfew. She had four hours to brew some more of the potion. She had brought her wireless, so she wouldn't get bored. She tapped the radio with her wand, setting it to her favourite station. She didn't know why everyone was so surprised when they discovered that she liked vintage wizard rock. It reminded her of the music she had been brought up on when she didn't know that she was a witch. She was also able to identify more with the songs from these people than from Celestina Warbeck or some other warbler. The notion of 'a cauldron full of hot, strong love' was simply ridiculous. She experienced no emotion whatsoever when listening to her songs, other than a strong desire to gag.

On the other hand, music like this often had strong themes that meant that it was easy for her to find something she could relate to. However, they all seemed to be quite depressing. She liked something with a good tune just as well.

As she was kindling a fire underneath her cauldron, the wireless crackled to life.

"And, now, the single that has taken everyone by storm, shooting up the charts on the first day of its release, yes, that's right, it's the one you've all been waiting for, Charmed Lyfe – That's with a –y, folks, in tune with their band name . . . yes, here's the Hyppogryffes!"

It was her favourite song at the moment. Not depressing or particularly meaningful to her, but goodness, it was catchy. At first she restricted herself t humming as she worked, afraid that someone would hear her bawling along. But who? Snape would have his door shut, of course, and the dungeon walls were hugely thick. She doubted that anyone would ever come down here purely for fun. Just for safety, she whispered an incantation and shut her doors. Then she began to perform.

"You have a charmed, a charmed life

You don't know how lucky you are

And now, you, oh you have enchanted me.

Enchanted me!"

The guitar solo began and she sang along in that time-honoured fashion:

"doooo . . . doo-be-doo-beeee-eee . . .dyoo-dyong-ti-ong-ioo-oooh-bee . . .doo-be-doo-be-dooo-be-dyooooo . . ."

She chanted as she grabbed her new ingredients, and flourished her knife in time with the songs, chopping to the beat. She often paused to belt out a favourite line or phrase.

After four hours of singing and brewing, she had almost forgotten who she was, let alone her troubles. She tidied up, and walked out of the classroom and up to her bed, humming all the way.

Snape's bedroom was silent, sinister, and dull. This is the impression that anyone who comes near it for the first time gets. However, not many people ever get to view Snape's bedroom, unless you count the House Elves.

The four-poster bed opposite the entrance was imposing and gothic, with carved mahogany posts reaching almost to the roof. These were connected with beams, which were not draped but instead left bare, like most of the room. The sheets were black and cotton and plain.

The wardrobe, which was situated to the right of the door, was also mahogany, and loomed large against the roughly hewn stone wall, which was made up of blocks of granite, which were grey and imposing and constantly gave one the feeling that they were closing in upon you, tightening and tightening until your very life was squeezed out of you.

There were even brackets for torches in the walls, which were used often, and contained dark torches waiting to be burned to ashes and then extinguished.

A glass-fronted bookcase made of dark wood was to the left of the bed. It was stuffed with flaking books, presumably full of Dark knowledge. A mahogany grandfather clock, blackened with age, sat to the left of the door. As you pushed forward the door, it would move towards the clock. All that could be heard was the stern ticking of the clock gradually counting away the seconds as the pendulum swung back and fro like a scythe.

There was a small window, showing the enchanted weather (they were underground, after all) and the black curtains were drawn shut permanently. Often, a crack of light would fall through, glinting off the bookcase's glass front. This was much more sinister than total darkness. The floor was made of ancient looking pine boards. If many people had seen the room as it looked most of the time, empty and hollow, they would all agree; Snape's bedroom was a formidable place.

Snape sat in his bedroom, upon his four-poster bed, writing a letter to St Mungo's to give them a new trial sample. He thought it wouldn't hurt to try Hermione's idea.

The torches were lit, and they brought light and warmth into the room as they blazed. The flames glistened off the granite, sending the room sparkling with life.

Snape was propping his parchment upon his lap as he lay on the bed, knees crooked. He looked altogether monochrome. The sheets were black, the pillows and mattress white. His face was pale, his hair jet-black, and his trousers black. He had removed his frock coat and wore a white linen shirt underneath.

His wireless was on his bookcase, which was open. The spirit of the books seemed to be leaking out of the cabinet, filling the room with a sense of intelligence. This was the habitat of an intellectual, a rare creature. There were no books about Dark magic, excepting those that instructed one on how to combat it. He checked his grandfather clock and directed his wand at the radio, turning it on.

"And now, Terence Baiget's Theatre Time! 5 Hours of solid tunes from all your favourite productions."

Oops. Wrong channel. He would never listen to musicals. He had had quite enough drama in his life already. People, for some reason, always presumed he would like showtunes. Minerva referred to him as the Phantom for the first, and, he had ensured, last time three months ago. How dare they insinuate he was at all melodramatic?

He pointed his wand at the wireless again, and soon it was blasting out his favourite songs in the privacy of his room, completely inaudible from outside.

" . . . Charmed life!" he finished triumphantly, tapping his pen on the filled parchment. The programme changed. He switched the wireless off, showered, and returned to bed.

Thanks for the lovely reviews. I'm replying via the reply url now, I didn't want to bore people! If you don't get a reply, write and complain.

I know not much happened here, and Snape sang, which is slightly OOC, but here are my excuses.

We get to see his bedroom. Come on, guys, it's Snape's bedroom!!

Also, he can sing if he wants to. I felt quite romantic. I agree it's rather OOC but he's alone in his room. The mask can drop. He would never do this in public. And it's only post-war that he feels able to do this at all.

If you hated this one, I understand. But I'll update soon with more snarky goodness!

xx


	13. Chapter 13

**Right guys, this bit is at the top!**

Sorry! Sorry sorry sorry! ducks to avoid heavy objects

Waah! School started again - I forgot how much work it was! I've been really busy but I promise I will update every week or every other week, depending on exams, which start in May.

I couldn't reply to reviews either - I've had no time! - but I'll still try to reply via the reply url. If you don't get a reply then I'm sorry!

But I do try. Honest.

Without any further ado, then . . .

**

* * *

**

chapter 13 – in which Hermione has a dream

Snape was disappointed. His plan of overworking Hermione had not worked. She had even found time to 'help Ginny with her work' as she had said one day. She spoke more. She seemed invigorated by the work rather than tired by it, and her eyes shone when she brewed a new potion. She became more confident, and cheeky, by the day. It was a week since the effects of the potion had worn off, and, instead of becoming withdrawn and annoyed at being labelled an insufferable know it all as she had dine when she was a student, she now laughed. He had broken his hold over her, or rather, she had shattered the illusion of any power he had. She was no longer his student. She wasn't equal to him, of course; she was an apprentice. But a very talented apprentice nonetheless. He wouldn't admit that to her. She had come up with that idea about the herbs, after all. The signs from St Mungo's were very encouraging. There had been three trials so far, and nobody had suffered any side effects, nor had they regressed at all. In fact, the progress was enormous. One patient had regained the power of speech just minutes after the drug had been administered. On the whole, the potion was a success. St Mungo's were considering a pilot scheme, and had written to Snape asking him to name the 'miracle potion' as they were calling it. He supposed that he had better tell Hermione. It was, after all, her idea.

At Potions class the morning after he received the letter, he wondered how to tell her, without causing her to gloat. He decided, in the end, that gloating would be inevitable, but that he would simply have to sneer off the fact that she could find the breakthrough in minutes when he had been searching for it for years. Just as long as a breakthrough had been found, he was indifferent. Totally and utterly indifferent. The bell rang, and the students gathered things and left as quickly as possible. Hermione stood and began the now-familiar trek through to Snape's laboratories.

"Little Miss Know It All . . ." began Snape as he entered the room.

"Yes?" said Hermione, intrigued by a conversation actually initiated by Snape. Any chatter she began soon turned into sparring. She half smiled, assuming the next comment to be instructions, disguised as an insult.

"Nothing. Get on with your work."

He jabbed a wand at the worktop, conjuring a piece of parchment with the instructions on them. He grimaced as she turned away from him to inspect the instructions and decide where to get the ingredients from: Snape's store in the labs or the student cupboard, if they were less rare. He knew that he would have to tell her, but couldn't face the gloating that, he berated himself, he deserved, for not thinking of the correct recipe before her. And perhaps, just a little, for the way he treated her before the potion, the Amortentia.

"Oh, okay, Severus. Before I get started, though, I was wondering, did you try out that combination; you know, on that anti-crucio potion? I would love to know how it turned out."

"Oh," echoed Snape. "Well, as a matter of fact, I just received a letter from St Mungo's this morning. The potion has worked excellently so far. I . . ."

His face twisted, as if he had just been force fed a dose of some hideous Muggle medicine.

" . . .I congratulate you. Little Miss Know It All, indeed."

Hermione was speechless. She had helped Snape with his potion, fast tracked him to the idea needed to help millions.

"That's fantastic!"

"Yes. Well. You will of course receive fifty per cent of the money that the Ministry pays you if the potion is successful. Now, I think, it is time for you to work."

"Oh . . . er . . . yes, Severus. Thankyou."

Still smiling, she set to work on her potion.

Severus had paused after Hermione's exclamation of glee, waiting for the jibes. Yet they had not come. 'Curious,' he thought.

Hermione worked all day in a happy haze. She had helped people, so many people, and stopped many more from being hurt. The Longbottoms would be okay. Neville. Wow, Neville would be ecstatic.

She, Dilys, and Snape had saved lives. Of course, she thought, as she lay in her bed that night and the logic sank in, it was only a matter of time before Severus himself used that combination, surely only a matter of weeks. However, she had sped up the progress up a bit, at least. She didn't really deserve that fifty per cent. She must speak to him about that.

It was only as she woke up the next day that she realised that she wasn't supposed to like this Snape.

But as with anything, the more you try and stop doing something, the more you think about it. Why was she suddenly admiring Snape? He was a genius, given, but he insulted her, belittled her, and did not have faith in her . . .

But that was all before the potion. Admittedly he had not become a being of sweetness and light, but he had certainly not insulted her – as much – and certainly not with venomous intent. He didn't ever belittle her or cast doubts upon her talent – well, he did, but not with actual feeling. More . . . teasingly? Could Snape tease? His comments invited rebuttal and retorts rather than anger and stony silence. His insults had lost their bite. And he most definitely did have faith in her. After all, he had put in the combination to St. Mungo's, and he had congratulated her, calling her – what was it that he had said? "Little Miss Know It All, indeed." She was sure there was a compliment in there somewhere.

Hermione found herself wanting to talk to Snape, learn all about him, his friendship with Dilys Derwent's portrait, his favourite books, and even silly little things like his favourite colour (She thought that she could probably guess that one) or his favourite song. But there was no way that she could properly talk to him. Theirs was a relationship of necessity, and not a friendly one.

Then, the dreams started.

One day, Hermione woke up, smiling at nothing. She had had the best dream ever, about . . . she frowned, trying to remember. And then it all came flooding back.

"Will you marry me, Hermione?" one Snape said, eyes dark pools of love. Another faded in from the background, whispering tenderly, "I will wait for you . . ."

Numerous Snapes appeared. "I will wait . . ." some reiterated. "I love you, Hermione," "Know it all indeed," were come other phrases that bounced around her dream.

She then saw memories: he holding hands with Snape in Hogsmeade, her hugging him, him brushing a tear off of her face . . . and then appeared a scene that had definitely never occurred.

They were kissing, in his labs, Severus kissing her fiercely and tenderly all at once, his hands in her hair, which hung loose and wild, and her hands wrapped around him, tight. She woke up at that point.

'Well, that was new,' she thought bemusedly.


	14. Chapter 14

**chapter 14 – in which Snape worries about his nemesis**

Hermione did not have a good day. She tried to pay attention to what Snape was saying, but her mind kept returning to her dream of them kissing. It had to be mourning for the lost Snape. It just had to be. So why was it giving her tingly feelings inside, and not opening up an abyss of grief? It was most unusual. And however hard she tried to push away the dream, it kept edging itself inside her head.

"Miss Know It All! Just because you have been successful in one potion, this does not mean that you are fully trained. As I was saying, today we shall be brewing the remainder of the Wolfsbane Potion. However, your full attention is needed.

"Thankyou, Severus. I'm sorry. Just a little . . . tired, that's all."

Severus sighed, resigned to being stuck with Hermione. If this was as tired as she got after weeks of hard work, there would be no getting rid of her. It didn't, however, mean that he had to be anything other than civil towards her.

Rather than assuming his usual position on a stool, reading, glancing up occasionally and offering few corrections, Snape was actually participating, finishing his potion as well. Hermione found it awfully hard to concentrate.

She was overpowered by his tall frame, deep eyes, and long fingers. His smell was musky, and she couldn't quite identify it, she was in such a haze. She nearly added the wrong ingredients twice, but stopped at a raised eyebrow from Snape.

'Damn it!' she thought furiously. 'What's come over me? I'm completely transfixed by him. It's as if I'm under a potion . . .'

Hermione blanched. Snape had found a way to wreak his revenge. She was under a love potion, and was infatuated by Severus Snape. There were all the symptoms: thudding heart, blushing, inability to communicate, clumsiness, and so on. But surely if she knew about it she could control it's effects? After all, this was why she had allowed nobody to tell Snape when he was under the Amortentia.

She spent the remainder of her day focussing upon her potion, and trying not to think of Severus Snape. She was glad it was a Friday. That way, she could find out what he had slipped her and administer an antidote before the next school day.

After lessons, she left hurriedly to go and find Hermione. Snape watched her go with a slight frown upon his face. Strange. He nearly always received some sort of comment before she left, generally involving her addressing him as Severus, and with some reference to his 'snarkiness'. Not that he missed it, but he had already prepared his retort. Maybe she was more tired than she had said. Ill, perhaps? He would see how she was on Monday, and send her to Poppy if she was poorly. Perhaps it was his fault. Had he driven her past the point of exhaustion?

Hermione arrived, panting, in Ginny's room, after having run up from the dungeons.

"Gin?" she asked, knocking on the door loudly. She heard a thud, as if something heavy had fallen off a shelf, muffled footsteps, and a bang.

"Ginny?" she asked worriedly.

"Just coming!"

A few seconds later, a harassed looking Ginny Weasley arrived at the door, opening it with a face that looked worried and stressed. Her jaw dropped as she saw Hermione.

Her hair stood out from her head in a mussed halo, where she had tangled her hands in despair, and her eyes were bright and upset.

"Whoa, Hermione. What's got you so worried?"

"Can I come in?"

Ginny glanced over her shoulder anxiously, and then looked back at Hermione.

"Of course."

"Thankyou."

Ten minutes later, Ginny sat next to Hermione, and they both held coffee cups. Hermione was curled around hers as if it was the very elixir of life.

"So, what's up?"

"Well . . . you know Severus . . . Snape? Yeah, Snape?"

"What about him?"

"I think he might have given me a love potion."

Ginny looked more than a little cynical. "Why?"

"Well, I can't stop thinking about him, and that's just not normal. Also, it came on so suddenly. I don't think love is supposed to do that."

Ginny raised an eyebrow, as if to suggest that Hermione knew little about the ways of love, and said slowly,

"Hmm . . . well, don't worry, we can go to Fred and George's shop tomorrow and they'll help."

"But I need permission from Se-Snape."

"Just say you're accompanying me. Flicky lets me go anywhere."

"Well . . .okay, then. I just hope that I can get it sorted before school on Monday.

The next day, Hermione found herself standing outside the staff room. Severus would be in there since he was not in his quarters, sitting alone, with a book, needing someone to talk to, have intelligent conversation with, and maybe . . .no! She reprimanded herself. She would simply ask for permission and leave. He wouldn't let him have the satisfaction of knowing that his potion had had any effect whatsoever. She knocked on the door, and got the fright of her life when the knocker responded,

"You could have just asked. Who is it you want to see?"

"Sev – Snape. Snape, the Potions Master?"

"No problem, miss"

His knotted face disappeared, moulding into the cold grey, immobile iron of the knocker, and Hermione could hear quite clearly what he was saying.

"There's a girl, big hair, pretty" – she smiled at the 'pretty' and frowned at the 'big hair' – "Wants to see Snape. I don't know why. She seems too nice for him . . ."

She suppressed her twinge of sympathy for Snape – he had put her under a potion, goddammit! – And even if she had done the same it was to achieve a definite goal, not just revenge. He had no right. She heard muffled tittering, and then even, solid, strong, manly – no, just footsteps. They oozed no masculinity whatsoever, she told herself furiously.

The door swung inwards, and there he stood, raising that perfect – that eyebrow. How Hermione wanted to trace its curve, run her fingers lightly over the contours of his handsome face . . . no. She was under the influence of a potion. And a pretty damn powerful one, from what she was feeling. She must remember that.

"Miss Granger? Are you feeling all right?"

'Ha', she thought. 'He wants to know if the potion worked. I'll feign ignorance.'

"Perfectly fine, Severus, thankyou. What happened to 'Little Miss Know it All?'"

"Oh," he said, looking faintly surprised. "I forgot. I'll try not to in future, Little Miss Know it All. So, if all is well, why did you come up to disturb me, then?"

"Well, I was wondering if I could go to Diagon Alley today . . . to help Ginny with buying some books."

"I hardly see that as necessary."

"Severus. I have had almost know breaks this term. In fact, the only time I have been outside of the school campus this school year was when you were under the potion. The pupils get more time to visit places than I do. It is ridiculous!"

He paused, about to retort. It was a bit ridiculous, come to think of it.

"Very well, Little Miss Know it All."

"Thankyou, Severus."

She turned and walked away, eager to get out of his presence. He sighed as he watched her turn the corner of the corridor, and returned to the staff room to begin packing his books. He was, of course, going to have to follow her. He hadn't let her out for fear of another attack via a potion, and this sounded awfully suspicious. She had blushed fiery red and looked away from him whilst explaining her reason for going – it was sure to be a lie. Whether she was plotting against him or not, he was determined to find out what exactly she was up to. She seemed to be a lot better, however. There were certainly roses in her delicate cheeks.

* * *

A/N: I know! Late! but Snape thinks her cheeks are cute. Weird, I know.. Hope you enjoy.


	15. Chapter 15

**chapter 15 – in which we get a not so surprising surprise**

The door chimed a happy little jingle as Hermione and Ginny entered Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. Hermione glared at it. All this bother had been making her exceedingly curmudgeonly. The twins looked up. They had obviously not been expecting her, but immediately left a batty looking elderly female customer, handing her care over to Verity, the worker there, and ambled over.

"Hey, Hermione. What can we do for you today?" one of them said.

"Not that you particularly need our help, if what we hear from our sister is true," the other continued.

Hermione smiled and shook her head.

"Well . . . no . . . its nothing to do with _making_ potions . . .I . . .I think I'm under a love potion, and Ginny said you could help."

"Thanks for drumming up business, sister of ours," they said simultaneously.

"You've not sold anything yet. And before she gets an antidote you need to know what she's under first," Ginny remarked.

"Oh. Yeah. How do you know that you're under a love potion anyway?" asked Fred curiously.

"Because the feelings are for someone who I wouldn't like of my own accord."

"Ooh!" they chorused, leaning forward. "Do tell."

She shook her head and blushed.

"Sorry, but no," she said.

"That embarrassing? I'm even more curious now," said George.

"Yeah, Hermione. No discount for you!" said Fred jokingly.

George had Summoned a catalogue of all their stock, then said,

"Fred! I've found it! Accio influence tester!"

A crystal bottle with a small dropper for a lid soared out of the back room into George's outstretched hands.

"Ten second colour coded influence tester, patented by the Weasleys," announced Fred proudly. "Just administer one drop to the skin of the person affected, and the liquid will change hue depending on potion ingested. So if we just put one drop on your finger, we'll soon find out what you've been put under and get an antidote rustled up in no time."

"Okay. Thanks."

George placed one shining drop of the pearlescent liquid onto Hermione's finger, and stood back with some ceremony, striking a pose as he stared expectantly at her hand.

"Now we wait."

" . . . ."

"Isn't the time up now, Fred?"

"Er, yeah," said Fred, who had been making faces at Verity, winking and blowing her kisses. "Why?"

"Well, it's coming out clear."

They stared at each other, flabbergasted, and then grinned slowly. Hermione's eyes were wide. Pleading, she asked,

"Couldn't there be come mistake?"

"No!" exclaimed Fred and George, looking extremely offended. "Weasley's Wizard Wheezes are one hundred percent guaranteed. If the test comes out clear, then the results are clear. Which means . . ."

They paused dramatically.

"The feelings are your own?" asked Ginny incredulously, with half a smile on her face.

"What? No! They can't be!"

"Thanks, guys. Let's go back to school, Hermione."

"If I have to"

"We can talk on the way."

"Yeah."

Hermione, looking dazed and confused, left the shop, Ginny rolling her eyes at her brothers and following.

"I only knew of that test because of Draco," Ginny said, looking tentative, but eager and determined all at the same time. Hermione seized on the topic like a rope thrown to a drowning person. It was a lifeline, an escape route.

"Draco! How's it going with him? I haven't seen him yet . . . why did you need the test?"

"Its going pretty well, I'd say. He proposed to me yesterday at lunch."

Hermione was stunned. She realised that she should have seen it coming. They had probably been going out for a while behind her back. Behind everybody's.

"I'm so happy for you, Ginny! You have to tell me everything now! Let's see the ring – oh, it's gorgeous! So, how did you two get together in the first place? And the proposal, what did he say? And, why didn't you tell me earlier? I wouldn't have minded, you know."

"I will answer them, all of them, but stop trying to change the subject. Firstly, we hooked up straight after the war, when I hexed Zabini Blaise for attacking him in the street – he's one of those who think Draco should be killed for not joining the Death Eaters permanently like his parents wanted. And he thanked me, and he asked me to join him in the Three Broomsticks. It's been so fantastic, really great. After that first day, I was so ecstatic, buzzing, that I checked to see if he had put me under a love potion. It was so sudden, just like you and him. Sometimes when you've come up to my rooms, he's been hiding in the cupboard."

Hermione nodded. That would fit.

"He proposed in one of the boats on the lake. He said he 'had already wasted too much of his life doing bad things, and he wanted to do one really good thing. And . . . I guess I didn't tell you earlier because of the whole trio versus Malfoy thing. But . . . but now that I know of your affection for the 'dark side', I'm not worried."

Hermione ignored the final comment and protested,

"I do like Malfoy! Well, not _like_, not yet. I don't know him well enough to like him. But I don't _not_ like him. I pity him . . ."

"Don't tell him that. He'll hex you. But anyway, Hermione, the point of bringing Malfoy up was to show that even though it can be sudden and unexpected and feel absurd, that's what love is. It's irrational, strange, and fantastic! And you love him. It's official."

"I don't love him!"

"Yes you do."

"No, I don't"

"Yes, you do."

"No. I. Don't."

"You really do."

"I DON'T!"

"You know as well as I do that a Weasley product never lies."

"For the last time, Ginerva Weasley, I do not fancy Severus Snape!"

Red sparks shot out of her wand, and she was shouting.

"Ok, ok! Just calm down, okay? Jeez, anyone could have heard you. We'll talk more after Apparating," she said, as they approached the Apparation Point.

Hermione looked around uneasily.

"Yeah, you're right. Let's go."

**SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS**

Severus Snape did not trust Hermione. And that, he told himself, was the reason that he followed her to Diagon Alley that Saturday. As Ginny and Hermione entered the twin's joke shop, he grimaced, expecting the worst. His suspicions aroused, he cast his own spell, the opposite of Muffliato, to hear their conversation. Meanwhile, he stood outside in the street as the people flowed around him.

Who, he wondered, could have slipped Hermione a love potion? Now that he knew that she wasn't trying to humiliate him again, he still did not leave. He was intrigued. It wasn't surprising that she hadn't wanted to tell him why she was going to Diagon Alley. Someone she considered an unlikely partner, no doubt.

'Wait!' he thought. 'It's not a love potion? So she likes someone against her will . . . interesting. This,' he smirked, 'was a weakness that could certainly be exploited.'

It was probably some handsome seventh year Slytherin. Once he found out whom, he could make her teach their class. Perfect.

They were leaving. He hastily stepped behind a gaggle of giggling witches, who giggled even more at the appearance of him in their midst, muttered an apology, sifting through the crowds until they were some difference away. Then he followed them once more.

'The dark side?' he mused. If he had had a beard, he would have stroked it. Instead he nodded. He was certain that the object of her unlikely attentions was a Slytherin. But why would Hermione fall for a Slytherin pupil? It had to be style over substance, because he knew deep in his heart, even though he would never admit it, that this year's Slytherin males were all a bunch of blithering idiots. He would have thought she would have more sense than that. And the news of Ginny and Draco? It was unlikely, but somehow fitting. He had certainly been the cleverest boy in his year, and his tendency to whine would be checked by Ginny's quick wit and even quicker wand. Yes, he thought, a surprisingly suitable match. Quite unlike Hermione and this unknown, but undoubtedly dim, Slytherin. He suspected McVicar, a vain, vapid seventh year retaking his Potions O.W.L. this year, and he walked faster, awaiting confirmation. Ginny was pestering Hermione. Perhaps he would hear this damned boy's name. Then he could infuriate her by . . .

'Me? She likes me?' he thought. He stopped in his tracks, letting their conversation drift away from them. His mind was as crowded as the street around him.

'She can't love me! Not only is it entirely unrequited, and the feelings are in no way at all reciprocated, it's simply impossible. Why would she like me? Love me? No . . . maybe . . . perhaps that day, that day with the potion, when it seemed that I was in love with her.' He was, he noted from her memories, very charming, though with inexcusable dress sense. 'But surely she must realise that that wasn't me?'

He supposed that he would just have to endure the crush until it passed, unless . . . unless he could find a way to use it to his advantage.

* * *

**A/N: Sorry for the late update. If I receive 10 reviews for this chapter, I may just post as quick as I possibly can!! I've now enabled anonymous reviews - I thought I had already, but I'm not very good with muggle inventions! :**

**don't expect a chapter before the 7th/8th of June; I won't be on before then**

**signing off, erisedvision139**

Questions for the next chapter -

- Will/How will Snape exploit Hermione

- How will Hermione react?


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16 – in which there is revenge**

Hermione lay in her bed, staring up at the rough stone ceiling. She had excused herself from Ginny's rooms very early; she needed time to think. If the dreams, the feeling that she had been experiencing were not the result of some prank, then . . .

The thought broke off, and she shifted position. There was no way she could be in love with Severus. Was there?

'All right,' she thought. 'The way he persists in calling me 'Little Miss Know It All' is . . . fun. Hell, even that concept is alien! A fun Severus. But then, it depended on your idea of fun. He was happiest reading, researching, verbally sparring, or brewing. And she, in contrast, was . . . she was . . .

She blinked. This was not going well. She needed to convince herself that Severus Snape was _not_ loveable. She compared him to her loving Severus, the Amortentia falsehood. He was nowhere near as complimentary as that Snape had been. Although . . . since his compliments were few and far between, that made them more precious, more genuine somehow. When he had said to her, in that low, gorgeously deep, sexy . . .

She shook her head. Anyway, when he had said that she was "A Know It All indeed," she had been happy all day. And the person under the Amortentia, who had told her his unhappy past, had shared a history with this Snape too. Severus had brewed the Wolfsbane Potion selflessly, not looking for international recognition, but simply trying to help. He had put his life in peril as a Death Eater spy for the Order. She remembered admiring the man under the love potion because of the things he had done. His actions had been noble and brave, and even if his behaviour was a little more acerbic and cutting, he was still essentially the same man.

She was so confused. How had this happened? She needed to sleep on it. Twelve hours later, when she woke up, the feelings still hadn't disappeared.

Hermione sighed wearily. Maybe she was imagining it, but it seemed to her as it, in the week and a half since she had discovered that she might – just might – be in love with Severus Snape, he had been behaving strangely. He was leaning in closer to her, indulging in casual conversation with her, and staring at her in an irritating way. His intense gaze often caused her to mistake the time to add the ingredients, fumble a vial, or even worse, to blush.

The conversation she could handle, no, she even enjoyed the chats. It just felt so normal as to be weird. And the strange comments he had been adding – flirting? She wondered. Or sarcasm? – served only to make her uncomfortable .He had taken to wandering over to her occasionally whilst she was working, and looking over her shoulder at her notes or cauldron. She could feel his breath on her neck, and in turn her breathing became shallow, and she was sure that he could feel the heat on her face radiating out from her body. What was more, she found that she now had trouble saying his name.

'Severus,' she thought. 'It's easy. Three smooth, sexy syllables. Sexy? I think that his name is sexy. Oh god, I'm far gone.'

She thought all this as she was packing up her books and equipment. She had been brewing Amortentia, and so since she had done it before she didn't really have to think much.

"Ah, Amortentia."

Hermione jumped. Snape continued, unruffled.

"The liquid of infatuation. As you have proven, Little Miss Know It All, love makes us do strange things. Love, in itself, is strange."

She was quite sure that he was flirting. Could he know? Was he taunting her, deliberately tormenting her? But how could he know? Ginny certainly wouldn't tell anyone.

'Oh my gosh he's coming over. Breathe, Hermione, breathe!' she instructed herself hastily.

She decided to treat the remark as a bitter reference to her prank, and said in a harassed voice,

"I've said I'm sorry, even though I'm not, really, but I've calmed down and you've calmed down, so can't you just leave the incident alone?"

She said this whilst looking down at the desk, avoiding his dark eyes. His hand was resting on the desk, right beside hers. It was rough, callused, and a true Potions Master's hand. It moved slowly off the desk, and, startled, she looked up.

"You aren't sorry?" he inquired. His low voice had lost all smarminess.

"Well, no," said Hermione, wishing that he would just move. Do anything, leave, laugh, yell, but just move so I can stop feeling like this!

"At the time, you deserved it. And it worked. I get to actually learn as a result of it, professor."

She was silent, expecting a war of words, as he demanded an apology. He paused and then asked with a slight frown creasing his features,

"What happened to Severus? Have you finally stopped that?"

"Yes, that's it. I felt it was rather . . .childish"

Hermione's eyes had returned to her books. Snape's expression flickered.

"Well then, Little Miss . . .Granger. Until tomorrow."

He turned and left her in his labs, cloak billowing. Hermione let out a gasp of air that she didn't realise that she had been holding. She couldn't bear this. Ginny needed to know that the feelings hadn't "Just gone, disappeared as quickly as they had come," like she had pretended.

* * *

Right, here you go. Errors, complaints, flames. All can be submitted now you can review anonymously!!

ASHARA


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17 – in which Severus reflects, and Ginny is busted**

Severus stood in his kitchen as Hermione left. He picked up a mug, and replaced it on the table with a sigh. It was pointless to pretend that he had left her because he actually needed to do something. He heard the door shut, and began to walk slowly back to the laboratories. His head hurt.

'She wasn't sorry? Never even sorry? She said I deserved it. _Did _I deserve it?'

Eventually, he admitted to himself, he did.

'I was terrible then. And all because of some half baked grudge against one of her friends.'

And suddenly, he realised, 'I'm being terrible now as well. I should have just left her to get over me. But . . .'

But did he want her to get over him? Not really, no, was the surprisingly easily found answer. Did he love Hermione? He couldn't love her. She was a . . . A what? A Gryffindor?

'No,' he thought. 'It's not that.'

It was new, and strange, and completely alien. And therefore suspicious and scary and wrong. Seized by a sudden thought, he checked the Amortentia. None was missing; he couldn't have swallowed it by mistake . . .

'God,' he thought. 'Hermione had been wearing awfully strong perfume that day.'

No. He just couldn't like her. She was too . . .cheeky, independent. Then he realised, dread in the pit of his stomach, that it was the Amortentia that was giving off the aroma of Hermione. To him it smelt not only of fresh parchment and Firewhisky, but also of Hermione. He clutched the desk for support. Potions didn't lie. He was in love with Hermione. The memories rushed through him - the respect he had for her for being such an able Potions Mistress, how refreshed she felt when she stood up to him. He remembered the way his eyes scanned the table at meals looking for Hermione, and then glaring – no, gazing – at her the entire time. He remembered how he had told himself it was so he could catch her doing something wrong. He thought of how his stomach lurched pleasantly when she called him Severus, and the warm feeling he got when he called her Little Miss Know It All and she smiled, and how his mask of cold indifference was cracking more and more each day, because of her. He knew he loved her. He had respected her since her sixth year, and had been slowly falling for her since she handed those memories over to him.

And he realised with a jolt that she loved him too. Although probably not, with the insufferably, inexcusably smarmy and unctuous was he had been acting. What could he do? Tell her? But what if she didn't like him anymore, disenchanted by his behaviour?

He sighed. It was going to be a long evening.

**SSHGSSHGSSHGSSHGSSHGSSHGSSHGSSHGSSHGSSHGSSHGSSHG**

Ginny opened the door, flustered, to see Hermione Granger looking just as flustered on the other side.

"I can't take this anymore, Ginny!" she exclaimed. Then she paused.

"Wait, Gin, what's wrong? Is Draco here?"

" . . .Yes"

"Oh. Where?" she asked, craning her neck around the door.

" . . . The cupboard," Ginny answered in a small voice.

"Oh," Hermione echoed. "I don't mind, you know. How many times do I have to say that I'm happy for you? Will you let him out, please? I suppose that I can talk about it in front of him."

"Oh. Okay, then."

Her face red, she hugged Hermione, finally realising that her friend was not pretending. She broke away from the hug and yelled back into her quarters,

"Drakie!"

They moved into her living room, and sat on the sofa. Malfoy entered, casually doing up the buttons of his shirt.

"Hey, Gin," he drawled. "Oh, er . . . hi, Hermione"

"Hey Draco. Congratulations with Ginny and the wedding!"

"Thanks," he said, giving a genuine smile. He had become wary when he saw Hermione first, but the tension broke and he sat himself on a beanbag in front of Ginny, who laid a hand on his shoulder.

"Er . . .yeah . . .so . . ." said Hermione. "Oh, I remember. I can't take this any more! He knows, I'm sure he knows that I like him, but he's so . . .smarmy, and so . . .fake, and he stands too close, and he does very, very bad flirting, on purpose, just to make me uncomfortable."

"Ooh, who?" asked Malfoy eagerly.

Ginny mouthed 'Snape?' at Hermione. She nodded. Ginny made a sympathetic face, and Hermione continued in her tirade.

"And I can't call him by his name either because I'm sure that he could tell from that if he doesn't already know, and I'm getting really close to just telling him that I like him. No, not like, love him. But I'm sure he hates me. I mean, Hermione Granger and Severus Snape? It just doesn't – "

Here she was interrupted by Malfoy, who squealed "Snape!" and dissolved into howls of laughter.

"Drakie, Darling," said Ginny sweetly.

"Yes, sweetheart?" said Draco, after recovering marginally.

"Dearest, . . . shut up, _now_. That's what people thought of us."

"Oh, yeah."

" . . .And?" she prompted.

" . . . I'm sorry, Hermione," said Malfoy shamefacedly.

" It's okay, that's what I think of me and Snape. How could it ever work?"

"Honestly!" exclaimed Draco. "I thought you were the clever one. There's the shared love of Potions, the library, and work. Then there's the wit, intelligence, and social introvertedness as well."

"Hmph," said Hermione huffily.

"Is that even a word?" she asked grumpily.

"It is now! Anyway, there's no use denying it, for all of those reasons. Not to mention the amount of time you two spend together. The only issue is the last name. Hermione Snape doesn't work, and nor does Severus Granger. I'm taking Ginny's name myself, so we can add to the Weasley line and end the Malfoy one."

"Yeah, Hermione, what he said. Except the surname doesn't matter. It's the love that counts," agreed Ginny.

"I suppose so . . . so should I tell him then? It would be awful if he didn't like me."

"He likes you," reassured Ginny.

"You don't know that!"

"Well, no, I don't, but he doesn't _not_ like you!"

"What on Earth is that meant to mean? I'll see if I can find out whether or not he likes me."

"I'll try too," Malfoy pledged. "He likes me, he might tell me something."

"Thanks Drakie! You're so sweet!" Ginny exclaimed.

"Gorgeous. I'm so gorgeous," the aforementioned 'Drakie' corrected.

"And sweet."

"If I have to be"

Malfoy pulled Ginny off the sofa into his lap, and they kissed. Hermione wondered if that could ever be her and Severus.

* * *

Hello. Thanks for all the wonderful reviews! You speeded up my updating!

Lets aim for another 10 reviews before chapter 18.

Remember, anonymous reviews ARE enabled!

**Questions for reviewers to answer/ think about:**

1) Was it too soon for Severus to realise he loved her?

2) Will it ever be her and Severus? You know it will, of course, but HOW?

3) What do you think about the Dramione subplot? Especially Draco being so flamboyant. I thought about some DM/HP instead, but that's exploded in anotherof my fics, due to be posted soon.

4) Speaking of other fics, I've written a few oneshots. Mostly SS/HG but one Bellamort and a few DM/HP. What should I post? Or should I just go for it and splurge them out? I'm having a Drarry attack at the moment and plots are infecting me. SSHG is still my favourite pairing though!

So, review and tell me!

Thanks especially to all the regular reviewers for keeping me going.

Oh! Oh! And, before I forget - should I continue Forgotten - a fanfic already posted, by me - or not?

Thanks for reading this exceptionally long message.

And for keeping me happy through the mostrosities of School.

Erisedvision139


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18 – in which Draco plays godmother**

Severus was sitting at his desk, and his head was supported by his hands. After mush thinking, he had come to the conclusion that he would see whether she genuinely loved him and then decide if he should tell her or not. He had even made a list, which was now burning in the fire. 'Pros and cons ofHermione Granger' it had been entitled. He couldn't find any cons, and from that itself he knew he was in trouble.

He opened a notebook, and was doodling Hermione's name absentmindedly upon the parchment when he heard a knock upon the door.

'Hermione!' he thought. Then, 'Why would it be Hermione? Bloody idiot' He reproached himself. Severus shut the notepad and walked to the door.

Malfoy entered the room like a whirlwind as soon as the door was opened. His hands were flying around and he was grinning.

"Draco, to what do I owe the pleasure?" Snape inquired silkily.

"Well, as it happens, I was at the school, and rather than posting it to you, I came here to invite you to my wedding. This might come as a bit of a surprise, but I'm marrying Ginny Weasley next Sunday. I would be delighted if you would come."

"Oh . . ." he remembered to look surprised. "Really? Well, congratulations."

"Can you make it?"

Severus couldn't think of an excuse in time. He had no funerals to go to, no urgent appointments to fabricate.

"Yes, I suppose so."

"So, who will you be bringing?" asked Malfoy airily, ambling over to the bookcase and squinting at some of the titles.

"I beg your pardon?"

"As a date. Who? It has to be someone we tolerate, though, so basically anyone. Apart from Zacharias Smith, we don't like him. And Blaise. And Crabbe. And Nott."

"Draco, seeing as you hate list is composed entirely of males, I doubt that I could bring a 'date' to your distaste."

Draco nodded. So that was that settled then. Time to narrow down the possibilities even further.

"So who?" he pressed.

"Nobody. I highly doubt its compulsory."

"Why not? Don't you like anyone?"

"That, Draco, is not the issue"

Snape cursed inwardly. Look at what she had done to him! He was opening up all over the place.

"So, who is it then?" said Malfoy, grinning.

"Nobody."

"Seeing as you're so unwilling to co-operate, I'll go through a list of possibilities . . . Madam Hooch?"

"No"

"Miss Sprout?"

"No!"

"Madam Rosmerta?"

"No! This is – "

"Poppy?"

"No."

"Madam Pince? I've always thought that her and Filch were together, but you never know, with the library thing, . . . you two . . .?"

"No! This is ridiculous. And it won't get you anywhere."

"Not . . . not a pupil?"

"No. That's preposterous."

"Right, not a pupil, nor any of the nicer looking teachers. Is she in the school?"

"I'm not saying," said Snape sulkily. He was flabbergasted. How had he managed to give so much away?

"Have I actually managed to wind Severus Snape up?" Malfoy jibed. "I'm taking that she is in the school, by the way, seeing as you hardly ever venture outside the castle. It's not a ghost, is it?"

Severus rolled his eyes.

Draco grinned. He was having a great time.

"No? Then the object of your affections _is_ dear Hermione!"

"What? No! Of . . . of course not! Why would you even think that?"

"Not again," sighed Malfoy theatrically. "Okay then, mutual interests, characteristics, and time spent together.

Severus shrugged.

"It's still a no."

"But yes!"

"No."

"Yes?"

Severus was looking away from Malfoy. His face had grown hot.

"No"

"You love her! Sevie loves 'Mione! Aaaw . . ."

Severus turned, and, quick as a flash, grabbed Malfoy and pushed him against the cold stone wall.

"Tell anyone – anyone, and die, Malfoy."

"Understood, sir."

Draco swallowed, and hid his smile. Snape let him down and began pacing the room. There was a pause as Malfoy rubbed his throat.

"Sir? Will you go with her?"

"No."

"But why not?"

"She doesn't like me, let alone love me."

"How are you so sure?"

"Because, Draco," he said, in the manner of someone explaining something to a very small child, "I have been horrible towards her ever since she became my apprentice. I don't deserve her love, even if she did like me"

"But no! The Amortentia, the man behind the meanness . . ."

"Even if she did like me, love me, after that, she can't now. I was especially crude and smarmy because I wished to 'get on her nerves', and force her to seek apprenticeship elsewhere."

"When did you realise you were in love with her?"

"Approximately four hours ago."

"Is it love?"

"I . . . I think so."

"Take Veritaserum. We don't want anybody getting hurt over nothing."

"Amortentia . . . it smells of her."

"Well, that's a good indication, but Veritaserum is always accurate."

"Very well, then. I suppose it is always good to be completely sure. Accio Veritaserum!"

A small crystal bottle flew into his hand. He took out the deep red stopper and swallowed a measured mouthful.

"I, Severus Snape, am in love with Hermione Granger."

"Well then, Severus, you _shall_ go to the ball!"

Draco Malfoy swept out, beaming.

Severus blinked.

Right. Sorry sorry sorry. I'm a tad late, I know. But I just can't like this chapter. All the same, I hope you do!

CCSlover: Severus Snape did not stand in his kitten. This is not that sort of story! :P Thanks for the review though!

**For the record for all of you, I will try and post some of my other stuff - splurge, as bookworm33 suggested - but it will take time beacuse the computer upstairs is ANCIENT and eats everything else but floppydisks. However, the downstairs computer is very picky and will not even try floppy disks. Hence I have a bit of a problem.**

Queen of Confusion: Thanks. I hope this is soon enough.

**Despite the fact it is now summer, I will only be updating every 2 weeks. This is because of holidays and crazy parents and . . . LIFE.**

Notwritten: You know what? I did have a winsome day!

Debjunk: Sequel coming up for Forgotten. Eventually. When the computers decide to get on. I'm hoping that they'll fall in love and have laptop babies, but it doesn't look like its going too well. I need my own little Drakie!

El Neneo: I'd missed you! Thanks for the lovely review. Severus is indeed made to convince them, but not to Hermione, exactly. More to my favourite fairy, Draco.

cookiebubblegiggle: Thankyou! Have a chocolate frog.

Hotgirlow: Thankyou! I hope I continue to be laughed with, not at.

bookworm33: Thankyou so much for the review. I love the fact you took time to write an essay for me! A+ by the way, and nods to you for the pros and cons list! I notice you've updated - I'm reading straight after posting this.

emzi: I cannot tell you how happy I am that I have converted you to fanfiction. Expect lots of Drarry fluffiness in other fics I will post, and some really nice WAFFY SSHG.

**AND AS FOR THE REST OF YOU - StarlitCascade, Ayanna88, Amaquieria, familyguyfreak, the Norwegian Ridgeback, looneylovey, KellyAnne226, thanks for the adds, and I'll check out your stuff, but please, please review. If you don't tell me what you hate I can never improve! sobs - **

**StarlitCascade- post some of your stories!! :):)**

** Ayanna88- continue your story please!**

**Amaquieria - someone likes fruitsbasket!! Yay. Go write us a Kyo/Tohru, please! Also, Naruto and Howl's moving castle! I'm very happy to have attracted someone with such taste. Have you read the actual book Howl's moving castle? Let's have an anime discussion! TohruXAkito? Hmm...**

**familyguyfreak - Your taste is impeccable. I don't feel capable of writing a Housefic myself. I'm off to read your Naruto now! Have you tried listening to Rush? They're a Canadian rock band. I just read it. It was weird. Weird. Good weird. Sort of.**

**Ridgeback - try writing, I'm sure you'd be great! I'll check out your favourites as well.**

Looneylovey: I don't know why this isn't bold, but oh well. Houe fic I shall read. Write a torchwood one for me?

KellyAnne226: post something!! I'll look into your faves too!

Signing off now, eventually,

erisedvision139

xx


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter 19 – in which dancing is discussed, and Snape struggles**

Hermione cried when she heard.

"He loves me! I can't believe it. Severus loves me."

"Just be natural around him, then, and it's sealed. You can tell him at the wedding. Oh, I almost forgot, will you be my bridesmaid?" Ginny asked.

"Of course. Wow . . . " said Hermione, still dazed.

Malfoy gasped. "I enjoy matchmaking so much. Oh. My. God. I can get Severus to be Best Man! I'm sure Greg won't mind, come to think of it, I'm not even sure that he knows what a Best Man is . . ."

"And then," said Ginny excitedly, staring happily up at Draco.

"Yeah," he agreed.

"Sorry, what?" asked Hermione.

"First Dance with Severus. Chief Bridesmaid and Best Man. I'll send the owl now.

**SSHGSSHGSSHGSSHG**

Severus sighed. He was going to make such a fool of himself. He didn't even have dress robes for this bloody ball. And now he was Best Bloody Man. Malfoy had sent him a bloody owl saying:

"Severus,

I forgot in the midst of all the revelations – would you be my Best Man? Thanks. I'll see you there. Oh, and, Hermione's Chief Bridesmaid. Enjoy your first dance with her!

From

Draco Malfoy"

So he would have to dance the first dance with Hermione. In two days. He felt unprepared, scared, terrified, eager, invigorated, and nervous. He was a puddle of emotion.

**SSHGSSHGSSHGSSHG**

On Friday, the last day of school before the wedding, there were Potions classes running until the afternoon, and then apprentice lessons for the rest of the day. Severus was nervous – could she like him? Would she resent his behaviour? Hermione, on the other hand, couldn't wait to see him.

At the Breakfast table that day, Hermione couldn't stop staring at him. On Sunday, she would tell him. Snape tried to stop himself, but it was useless. He looked over at her, to find her staring. She held eye contact, blushed, and then returned to her food, hair falling over her face.

Hermione was grinning into her croissant. Only two more days . . .

Severus groaned as she looked away. She would think he was being all crude again. What a start to the day. Minerva and Ginny, who had been watching the scene, giggled. Snape looked over sharply, and Ginny had the presence of mind to squeal,

"That was a marvellous joke. The muggles really have no idea . . ."

The bell rang, and Potions class began.

Hermione was there first, waiting eagerly for him to arrive into the room. She was never first there, and normally he was sitting waiting for her when she entered. So when he came in, sighing loudly, he thought he was the only one in the room.

Hermione took the books out of her bag as loudly as she possibly could, with much rustling and zipping and banging, to alert him to the fact that she was in the room. He started, and smiled. Or at least she thought he smiled. His lips quirked, certainly.

He cleared his throat.

"Miss Granger."

"Professor."

She quite enjoyed being calm, even though she was bursting to tell him already, let him know that she loved him.

"Er . . . Miss Granger?"

"Yes, Professor?"

At this point, the class filed in, and any dialogue was pointless until after lessons were over. At break, Hermione went to the library, taking care not to stare at him. She had done far too much of that during the lessons. She hadn't, however, been as bad as he had. He stumbled over his silken sentences, and had become increasingly frustrated. The class noticed that something was wrong, but were too terrified to ask if he was all right. Hermione arranged her face into a mask of mild concern throughout the whole affair, even when he lost the ability to pronounce words correctly:

"Herm – Her – Hellm – Hellebore!"

She had butterflies thinking that he was thinking of her. She really wanted to know what he had been going to say at the start of class. All the same, she swept out of the class at break time. He could tell her during apprentice lessons.

**SSHGSSHGSSHGSSHG**

Severus started when he realised that he was not alone in the room. He couldn't restrain the upward curve of his lips when he realised who it was, though. What had come over him?

He issued a formal greeting and sat down. He had to tell her. On an impulse, he began:

"Er . . . Miss Granger."

He was already regretting his decision when she answered, "Yes, Professor?", and for once he was glad to see the class enter. He spent far too much of the lessons staring at Hermione. He couldn't tell her. She wouldn't accept him, and then he would have to endure a year of rejection, humiliation, and embarrassment, and then he would have to work with her the following year as they split classes between them.

As soon as the break bell rang, Hermione exited the room as quickly as she would if she had Apparated out. Presumably, thought Snape sourly, to avoid any unpleasant behaviour on his part.

He remained in his room over the interval, reliving the worst moments of his Potions classes so far that day. She was consuming him. He recalled with a shudder his telling mispronunciation of a certain Potions ingredient, and Hermione frowning at him, looking slightly concerned. He knew full well that he didn't deserve any concern from her. He was an acerbic, scornful man with no redeeming features. And now he was falling apart. He was still sitting at his desk feeling sorry for himself when the bell rang and the class trudged in, followed by Hermione. She didn't look at him as she moved to her chair at the back of the class, and looked up only when she had sat down, met his eyes, flushed, then looked away again.

He narrowed his eyes. 'And now she thinks I'm trying to be intimidating again!' he wailed silently.

He hid his thoughts carefully, and began.

"Today, class, we shall be brewing that most dangerous of potions, Amortentia. The class looked bemused, but he felt no need to elaborate. It had all started then. For him, and he was a walking example of its devastating effects.

**SSHGSSHGSSHGSSHG**

Hermione entered the class, vowing not to spare a glance for Severus Snape. But she just couldn't help herself. As soon as she sat down, she glanced up, to find his dark, intelligent, and unexpectedly warm eyes on her. She felt the heat rising in her face and, thinking that it would be awful if he found out before the wedding, looked down at her bag. Everything seemed to be geared towards the wedding.

She couldn't concentrate on her potion. She gave up completely, in fact, and drew doodles of Severus Snape all over her notes.

When the lunch bell rang she gazed at her parchment and stuffed it in her bag. Drawing had kept her eyes off Severus, but not her thoughts. She stood up to leave, and Severus was already gone.

**Hey guys, its chapter 19 up here, finally. Sorry I was late, everyone, I was in Edinburgh, the home of JK herself, hanging out with family. Only a few more chapters to go! After this I will post a few one shots. Some dark, some light, all romantic, but a few different ships. If anyone has any requests, mention it in a review.**

**Love you all, and thanks to reviewers!**

**erisedvision139**


	20. Chapter 20

**Chapter 20 –in which there is a birthday party**

Snape sat at the Staff Table, watching Hermione eat at the Gryffindor one. From what he had heard, it was Harriet Creevey's birthday, and Minerva had granted permission for both Hermione and Ginny to eat with their house. He was glad. It gave him ample time to simply watch her smile, laugh, and chat, which he could easily pass off as surveying the students.

"Severus."

He watched as she pushed a stray bit of hair behind her ear as she talked animatedly to Ginny.

"Severus."

She was hugging Ginny now, and was grinning widely up at the Staff Table, at someone to the left of him . . .

"Severus!"

"What? Oh. Minerva. I . . . didn't hear you," said Severus, swivelling anticlockwise to face her.

"That's no problem. It just shows that men can't multitask. I was merely going to ask you – I heard you're Best Man at the wedding on Sunday. Are you looking forward to it?" she inquired, smiling.

"Hardly. The last dance I attended was the Yule Ball. And I didn't dance once."

"I'm sure you can dance. What I was wondering about was the first dance in particular. As Best Man, you have to dance with the Chief Bridesmaid. I don't know if you've heard, but its Hermione!"

"I've heard."

Minerva did not seem surprised. Nor did she seem to realise Snape's desire to leave the conversation.

"And . . .?"

"And what, precisely, Minerva?"

"Do you plan on telling her then, or wasting away for the rest of the school year?"

"Telling who what?" he said, stalling for time by feigning ignorance.

"It's obvious that you lo – "

"Who.Told.You?" he asked, through gritted teeth.

"No one! I do have a modicum of insight, Severus. I wish you well"

"Well . . . thankyou, Minerva."

"I think she softens your edge . . ."

"I resent that sentiment."

"All the same. Good luck."

She stood, placed her hand upon his shoulder, and then left to talk to Poppy about a recent outbreak of Wizard Flu amongst the pupils.

Severus was slightly stunned. Was it that obvious? He hurried to resume gazing at Hermione, but she had left. So, in fact, had the entire Gryffindor table, and much of the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw students, and even some of the Slytherins. Then he heard a huge cheer from the grounds. The teachers, as one, left the hall to find the source.

They found Ginny, Harriet, Dennis, Colin, and Hermione stood at the centre of a huge circle. Ginny and Hermione had charmed the grass and the flowers around them into different colours, and a huge cake sat on a table in front of the birthday girl.

Hermione blasted the candles, which began to emit red and gold sparks, and said,

"Sonorous. On the count of three. One, two, three!"

They all amplified their voices, even the crowd, and began to sing Happy Birthday to Harriet. At the end of the song, which had been deafening, teachers were clapping. Snape stood, arms folded, a slight smile upon his face, as he quietly admired the scene from the shadows of the castle.

Harriet blew out the candles, grinning, and Colin and Dennis removed two small purple sausages from their pockets.

"Incendio!" they cried, and their hand made fireworks exploded. "Happy Birthday, Harriet" was illuminated against the sky. Cheering broke out, and the centre group all rushed out to a dazed looking Harriet to hug her.

Severus grinned. This, this was why he loved her. All that effort to plan a birthday surprise for this young girl who idolised her so much. He rearranged his face and returned to his quarters to wait for the apprenticeship lesson to begin.

**SSHGSSHGSSHGSSHG**

Precisely when the bell rang, Hermione entered, looking windswept. Her cheeks were flushed and she looked very happy.

"Miss Granger," he acknowledged again.

"Good afternoon, professor."

He was lost for words. He should say something about her masterful use of charms this lunchtime. But what? 'Interesting display this lunchtime, Miss Granger' would sound too formal and forced, and 'Great work, Granger,' would sound flirtatious again. Luckily, Hermione stepped in with,

"What are we brewing today, sir?"

"We are finishing off the Wolfsbane Draught."

She did not respond, but simply retrieved her equipment from her bag, and began. When the bell rang, Snape had still not turned one page of the book that he was 'reading', and Hermione had noticed. But still she had to act intimidated.

"Sir? What was it you were going to say, earlier today?"

He blinked. He had hoped that this was not going to come. On the spot, he made up something.

"I merely wished to apologise to you for my recent behaviour and manner towards you. It was inexcusable, and had no justification other than a grudge against one of your friend's fathers."

Hermione was speechless.

"Thankyou, sir. I really appreciate that."

Eyes shining, she gathered her books and left him empty. A step in the right direction, certainly, he thought, but he still couldn't tell her, not yet. Then she returned.

"Oh, sir, I forgot. I'm going to a wedding on Sunday – I've heard that you're going? – and I need to buy a dress. Would it be all right with you if I went to Diagon Alley tomorrow for that purpose?

"Of course, Miss Granger," he said. "I'll see you then," he continued.

She floated out of the dungeons, grinning. One more full day, then the dance.

**What a shockingly short chapter! I do apologise. I will be updating soon. And just for the record for anyone who's wondering exactly how long of this story there is to go, there will be four more chappies (all a lot longer, hopefully!) and then an epilogue, I think.**

**Any ideas for how the wedding (and associated dance) should progress??**

**Thankyou for the wonderful reviews. I can't reply just now because my computer is losing the will to live. So, scratch that, I'll hopefully be updating soon. And I will reply to reviews eventually. ;) I'd just like to say thanks to the regulars - you always make me smile, and a welcome to the newbies - I'm glad you think my story is worth reading!**

**I'd particularly like to thank Kylie, who reviewed asking for a Lucius/Hermione. Ideas are buzzing round in my head but I haven't actually read any Lucius Hermione ones - could anybody point me in the direction of some good ones?**

**I hope you're all having a great summer!**

**Signing off,**

**erisedvision139**


	21. Chapter 21

**Chapter 21 – in which there is shopping**

Snape slept restlessly that night. He had liked the feeling of doing something spontaneously, from when he apologised to her. And the way she had smiled . . . surely that meant . . .?

But still he could not tell her. Maybe later.

The next day, he woke up with a start. One more day . . . and he still needed to buy some blasted dress robes. He owled Draco.

"Draco,

What robes would be appropriate to your wedding tomorrow?

Severus Snape"

After writing this brief missive, he made himself some coffee. The reply arrived quickly, at the same time as the Daily Prophet.

"Severus!

It's nice to see that you are putting some thought into what the bridesmaid would appreciate, but I can't really help. Just wondering – are you planning to vary from the usual black? (Not that black isn't good, of course . . .)

Draco Malfoy"

'Well,' he thought grumpily, 'That was helpful.'

Instead of conjuring robes, he now had to go to Madam Malkin's and buy some. What fun. He pulled on a dressing gown, and whiled away the time until the Breakfast Hall opened – he always rose early – by marking a few essays. He was glad to see that his . . . preoccupation with Hermione hadn't affected his marking skills. He was so absorbed with criticising an essay that he forgot about breakfast. By the time that he had showered and dressed, the Hall was empty, and he skipped breakfast and went straight to Diagon Alley.

He knew that Hermione would be there, and found that he was taking detours around Gloria's Gowns on the offchance of seeing her. Eventually he found he couldn't put off buying robes any longer, and so he strode into Madam Malkin's. The daughter of Mrs Malkin, who was now in early retirement due to stress incurred by rowdy pupils, rushed up. He was the first customer of the day, which suited him.

"Oh, Mr . . .?"

"Snape"

"Snape? Well, Mr Snape, what can I do for you?"

"I'd like dress robes."

She raised her eyebrows.

"What's the occasion?"

"A wedding. I have been press-ganged into the post of Best Man."

Why was he indulging in conversation? No matter . . .

"Oh," she chuckled. "I'm sure that it can't be that bad. What colour do you prefer?"

"Madam, here you are the expert. What colour do you believe would suit?"

She blushed. Blushed! Had he made her blush, he wondered? What was this? He was supposed to make people cringe in fear, not be charmed! But there was, after all, more than one way to earn respect. Perhaps it was better to be feared than hated, but surely it was also better to charm into submission than to terrorise into such?

"Mr Snape, black looks good on you, certainly," she smiled, "but should we try a range of other colours?"

"That would be acceptable"

Eventually, and perhaps predictably, a black set of robes was decided on, though it had burgundy trim, cuffs, and burgundy silk lining.

"Thankyou," said Snape, and he left the shop with his new robes in a bag, which did, he noted while trying them on, billow pleasantly.

He continued down the alley, stopping at a café for some breakfast. As he was eating his sandwich and reading the Prophet, which he had brought with him, he thought that he saw a flash of thick brown hair, and Ginny's flaming red head as they walked down the road. He stood and craned his neck, but just couldn't see them. He sat down again. Why had he even stood in the first place? He finished his food, and walked down to the Apparition point, where he returned to school.

He spent the rest of the day marking essays and researching more potions, whilst thinking of Hermione the whole time. Annoyingly.

* * *

Okay, this is waaay too short. But don't worry. An update is coming withing the next few days. And it shall, I promise, be longer. Thanks for reviews, they make me smile! --HINT-- . Love you all.


	22. Chapter 22

**Chapter 22 – the big day dawns**

On the day of the wedding, it was Hermione who woke with a start. Ginny was shaking her.

"Hermione! Wake up! We have to get ready!"

"What? Its . . . Ginny, its eight o clock!"

" . . . And? The ceremony is at three, dinner at five, and the reception at seven!"

"I know," Hermione groaned. "You. Have. Seven Hours."

"Well, one hour for lunch, and I'll be at the Hall by two, so really only five. Did you hear that they've abolished the curfew, just for tonight, because almost all of the teachers are going? And pupils can go as well! It's going to be fantastic! I'm so glad! Imagine getting married in the Great Hall! I can't wait! And Minerva says it's a one-off, just for us two!"

"I might as well get up then."

"Yeah! I'll go and have a shower! I bet you're glad that I came through to wake you up!"

"Yeah. Ecstatic."

"Oh, come on! Remember, first dance with Severus!"

Ginny left in a whirl of ginger hair.

Hermione just had time to wonder when Ginny would calm down and stop proclaiming every sentence as if it contained news of great importance and news, prop herself up onto her elbow, and dash into – and out of, very quickly – a freezing cold shower, when Ginny re-entered, wearing jeans and a top.

"Minerva just flooed me. She said that they're removing Apparition wards within the grounds! It's just for today, though."

She looked at her watch.

"Only . . . six more hours until the aisle!"

Hermione summoned a comb, and began dragging it through her mass of hair.

"What's Draco doing?"

"He's going to get Snape – I mean, Severus – and is getting ready with him after an early lunch."

"Mmm"

Ginny dried her hair, which always, Hermione noted with more than a little jealousy, seemed to remain tangle-free at all times, with a flick of her wand.

"I think I'll get into my dress"

"What? Already? Wait for lunch, you might spill."

"Ever heard of magic, 'Mione?"

"Oh. Yeah," she said. There was to be no denying, or even stalling, this amazingly keen woman.

" Well, wait a minute. I'm just going to do my hair."

Fifteen minutes, three combs, and five smoothing charms later, Hermione's hair was sleek and shiny, and she looked a bit more awake.

"Yeah, Ginny, I can't wait either. Sorry for being so grumpy. I'm not really a morning person . . . "

"No problem. Will you help me with the dress now?"

"Sure."

They traipsed through to Ginny's rooms, and Hermione gasped when she saw the dress that was hanging in the wardrobe of her bedroom, even though she had seen it before. It was silk and white, with gorgeous little spaghetti straps. A pale blue ribbon was at the waist, and a tiara veil finished off the outfit.

"Oh, Ginny, I'm so happy for you," Hermione said, eyes shining. Ginny grinned, and left the room, levitating the dress behind her to the bathroom so it wouldn't get crushed by her carrying it.

Hermione was left to stare around Ginny's bedroom. It was the room of someone who was unbelievably happy. Drawings and doodles and toys and books were lining the walls. There was a large handmade calendar with a large circle around the date.

Ginny returned, looking radiant, and said "It's your turn now."

"It's only eleven o clock!" Hermione protested.

"No argument" Ginny grinned.

Hermione sighed and summoned the dress from her rooms. It soared out of the wardrobe, out of her window, and into Ginny's in the space of a few seconds. After zipping it up, Hermione smiled. She felt ready for the dance already.

"You were right, Ginny. Under four hours to go!"

Ginny returned the smile, and asked Hermione to help with her hair and the veil. Eventually, with just three hours to go – Hermione had begun counting as well – Ginny's red hair cascaded down her back, some of it clipped up. It was, in a word, beautiful.

"Wow, Ginny"

"Thanks. Now, we come to the real challenge."

It did take an awful lot longer to do Hermione's hair. Eventually they settled for the tried and tested method of a sleek bun, with a few curls falling down and framing her face. She would let her hair down for dancing.

With one and a half hours to go, they grabbed baguettes from Ginny's fridge and ate 'lunch'. Later they painted each other's nails, and then made their way down to the Great Hall before anyone else arrived. They stood in the classroom beside the hall, and prepared to wait.


	23. Chapter 23

**Chapter 23 –in which speeches are made**

Severus and Malfoy also stood in a classroom, though it was on the opposite side of the Hall, nearest the altar that had been set up. Severus wore his new robes, and his hair was as silky and as it had been under the potion. Malfoy wore black robes with bright green trim, and his hands were shaking, but he was smiling. His blond hair was falling loose over his grey eyes, and hadn't been slicked back for some years now.

"Does Hermione do this to you?" Malfoy asked. "You love her so much that it almost hurts?"

"Frequently," Severus sighed.

"I think that I can hear people arriving."

Severus composed himself, pocketed the rings, and walked out and waited. They stood in the hall as the many guests arrived, including all the pupils. School had been abandoned for the day, and excitement was in the air. The dance and dinner were by invitation only, however, and only a few pupils would be attending that.

The organ began to play, and the assorted turned to watch the doors, as did Severus and Malfoy. Finally Ginny entered, beaming, and Snape heard Malfoy sigh beside him. Arthur was smiling too as he walked down the aisle with his only daughter. He had been suspicious at first of Malfoy, but soon came to realise that he was perfect for his daughter. Hermione entered and sat at the front after proceeding up the aisle.

After the ceremony, there was a picture taken of the couple and their families, though Malfoy's relatives had all perished in the war, and then the dinner and the speeches began.

Many of the pupils left, congratulating Ginny and Draco as they did so. Ginny, Hermione, Draco and Severus transformed the room into the traditional style of the Breakfast Hall, with a high table for the bride, groom, families, bridesmaid, and Best Man. The guests applauded, and everyone made their way to their seats. The House Elves served dinner.

Ginny and Draco sat side by side, occasionally talking to the people beside them, Hermione and Severus respectively. Getting married seemed to have given the newlyweds a huge appetite, but Severus and Hermione couldn't eat much.

After everything had been eaten, it was time for drinks and speeches.

Hermione began:

"Ladies and gentlemen, pupils, friends, teachers, and the people that I love are all here today. Many of these people fit into more than one category. And you are all here to celebrate the love of our friends, Ginny and Draco. I'm sure that they will have a long and happy marriage. If you were expecting a longer speech, you will be disappointed. I believe that the occasion speaks for itself. To the bride and groom!"

Glasses were raised, and the applause was loud. After the conversation had returned to a steady murmur,

Draco tapped Severus on the shoulder.

"It's your turn now?"

"What for?"

"Your speech, of course."

"What speech? This wasn't in the job description!"

"I assumed you'd take it as a given."

"Well, unfortunately, I haven't prepared anything, so I'm afraid . . ."

"Just ad-lib! Hermione lost her speech, according to Ginny, all of that was improvisation!"

"Even so –"

"Listen, if she can do it and you can't, then clearly . . ."

"Okay then. I'll do it," he said through gritted teeth.

"Speech!" cried Malfoy, drumming his wand against his glass.

"Not right now!" Snape hissed, but the guests, including Hermione had already taken up the chorus. She was asking for a speech from him. He had no choice.

He stood, grimacing.

"Good evening. I had absolutely no idea that I was to make a speech, so have nothing prepared. However, I have recently been informed that a similar speech had been lost, so . . . Accio Miss Granger'' speech!"

A piece of paper, which had been folded many times, zoomed into the hall.

"My thanks, Miss Granger," he said, unfolding it.

"Oh, and it has been edited by another hand. Mrs Malfoy?"

The newly wedded Ginny blushed.

"Should I read it?" he asked the audience. Maybe after making this speech telling Hermione he loved her would be nothing in comparison, he hoped. But of course he knew it wouldn't be. He was still under a mask, albeit a different one from usual. With Hermione, he would be laying himself bare.

The crowd was surprised and delighted by this interaction.

"Read it! Read it! Read it!" they chanted.

He raised his eyebrows at Hermione, asking for her permission. She nodded, smiling. His heart soared as he smoothed out the paper and began.

" 'Ladies and Gentlemen, seeing as we are here for a wedding, I thought that I would talk to you about love.'

How touching, Mrs Malfoy. The word 'wedding' is embellished with many little red hearts, and the word 'love' is underlined heavily.

'Love is a wonderful thing. It can be all consuming, dangerous, but even when it comes in these forms it is still wonderful. But true love is the best of all. It will last forever, and when it is discovered you wonder why it has not been unearthed earlier, and how you could ever have lived without it. Ginny and Draco are very very lucky to experience true love, and I wish them every happiness. To the bride and groom!'

An admirable speech, with interesting drawings attached. I echo Miss Granger's sentiment. To the bride and groom!"

He raised his glass, sending the speech down the table with a non-verbal levitating charm. His mask disappeared and he was Severus once more. Love was a wonderful thing? He agreed The agony of knowing Hermione would not love him, coupled with the warm ache he felt when he saw her smile, was a thing of wonder indeed. He had to tell her. It was only a matter of time before Malfoy did it anyway. Perhaps after the first dance, maybe?

* * *

Hello. LONG LONG LONG time, I know. And apologies. But my gran was really very ill, and so there's been a lot of stuff on.

Love to reviewers.


	24. Chapter 24

**First of all, guys, READ THIS:**

Here it is! (Finally) The last chapter of Love is a wonderful thing! Thanks for reading! Especially big thanks goes to regular reviewers - apparently I'm not allowed to list, but you know who you are! I have an epilogue, but I'm thinking maybe I should just leave it to drown in fluff. Any thoughts?

Here's to you,

Erised

xx

**Chapter 24 – in which dancing and romancing abounds**

Some time later, the plates were cleared, the tables were vanished, and the guests were gathered in a large ring around the dance floor. A band containing Seamus, Dean, and Lee Jordan was setting up. Silence descended and Ginny spoke with a magically amplified voice.

"As you may have noticed, we are getting ready to dance. My friend Luna will be doing vocals for this first song, and after this the band will play traditional melodies. Enjoy yourselves!"

Beaming, she found Draco and hugged him. Eventually the music began. Ginny and her husband glided onto the dance floor and began dancing slowly.

Severus started as he realised he should be preparing to dance with Hermione. He saw her at the inside edge of the circle of people, looking around anxiously. He found his way through the crowd eventually, and arrived behind her as she was talking to Fred. He decided to wait until they had finished speaking before making his presence known. He could hear Fred clearly as he said,

"Hey, 'Mione. Listen, can I have the second dance after that Smarmy Git?"

"He's not a git, even if he has been a bit smarmy lately. But yes, I'd love to."

Fred walked away, whistling. Hermione resumed watching the lone couple dance, smiling. She jumped when she was tapped on the shoulder.

"I believe I have this dance, Miss Granger?"

"Oh! . . . Yes, Severus. You do."

"You look . . . stunning."

His mouth had gone dry, but he was still able to ask,

"Does this mean I can call you Little Miss Know It All again?"

"Thankyou. And I would prefer Hermione, actually."

He frowned. Could she possibly still like him? Hermione removed the pins holding her hair with a flick of her wand, and her thick locks were soon tumbling down her back.

"So . . . shall we?" he asked, gesturing towards the dance floor.

Hermione nodded, and they moved into the centre of the crowd. He hesitantly put his hands around her waist. She placed hers behind his broad shoulders. Then they danced.

**SSHGSSHGSSHGSSHG**

Hermione and Severus, bridesmaid and Best Man, venturing onto the dance floor seemed to act as a trigger for the rest of the crowd. Fred and Verity were having a lot of fun doing a tango to Luna's slow melody, completely unsuited to the dance, and George had walked shyly onto the floor, with none other in his arms than Alicia Spinnet, a surprise for all concerned, including George, who by the looks of it had just been dragged on there by her. He was looking quite pleased about it, though. Percy and Penelope were dancing together, a textbook waltz, and Tonks and Lupin were lost in each other.

Not that they noticed the flurry of couples entering into the dance; To them, everything other than the person that they were dancing with seemed slightly blurry and out of focus.

Hermione was breathing in Severus' smell. Musky and reminiscent of the labs in which he worked. Although she could stay like this forever, she supposed she had better begin a conversation. After all, she couldn't just randomly drop in the fact that she loved him. But what to chat about?

"You're good at dancing, Severus."

He was surprised.

"Thankyou, Hermione . . . First name terms, I think, are better than name-calling."

"Yes"

They danced on, accompanied by Luna's unearthly but strangely pleasant voice.

"Severus?"

"Yes?" he murmured into her hair. God, how he wanted to kiss her.

The hand she was resting on his back stiffened, and he looked down at her. She was looking at his chest, but seemed to sense his gaze and looked up, into his eyes.

"Well . . . I wanted to sort of be subtle about it, but I'm not really good at subtle, so . . . so here it is."

He raised his eyebrows. Was she quitting? Please no, not after all this. Even one week ago he would have minded less had she decided to leave. Now he knew that he loved her, he wouldn't know how to survive without her.

She swallowed and continued,

"I love you, Severus Snape . . . Ow!"

Severus apologised for standing on her foot in surprise, and lowered his voice.

"Is this another joke?"

"No! No Severus, it isn't."

He had to be sure. In his paranoid mind, which was used to plots and conspiracies, Malfoy could have told Hermione, who was taking revenge upon his behaviour through this declaration. He thought that he must have been dreaming, when she said that first. He felt full inside, and although he remained dancing, his mind had frozen in shock. He was speechless.

Hermione took this blank countenance as a sign that he remained unconvinced. She frowned slightly.

"You can use Legilimency, if you need to."

He immediately felt bad for not responding and said,

"I'm sorry, Hermione. That's not necessary."

Hermione dismissed this with a small shake of the head. Impatiently, she said,

"And your thoughts on the matter are . . .? I'm sorry, like I said, I'm not good at subtle."

"Neither am I," responded Severus. His lips were quirked. Right now, my thoughts go – bloody Gryffindors, and, oh, that was unexpected. In a good way."

His arm pulled tight around her waist, pulling her towards him. She gasped.

"I love you, Hermione."

She brought one of her hands down from his back onto his chest, and smiled. Then, puzzled, she asked,

"Why bloody Gryffindors?"

"Because they are so insufferably bold. I wasn't brave enough to tell you first."

The music stopped. They remained frozen there, lost in each other's eyes. Even Luna remarking to the guests,

"Ooh! Look! The master and his apprentice are having a 'moment'! I've always thought they'd be good together, and I . . .", could not distract them.

"Ooh! Look!" exclaimed Luna again, although it was slightly unnecessary; everyone was gaping at the couple.

"He's kissing her!"

Seamus wrested the microphone of Luna, cleared his throat, and said dazedly,

"Er, yeah. A round of applause for the er . . . couple?"

Hermione broke off the kiss and nodded towards the band, confirming Seamus' bewildered statement. Cheering broke out from the teachers and a few of the pupils, but the loudest came from Fred and George.

"Oy, 'Mione! Is he the one that you came to us about?"

Many looked confused. Hermione nodded again, beaming.

"I'll excuse you from that dance, then," Fred said. "It looks as if you might well be otherwise engaged."

The band struck up another waltz, and a smiling Snape began to dance.

"I love you, Hermione Granger."

"Same to you, Severus."

They danced a little, talked a little, and kissed a little that night. As Severus walked her up to her quarters, he remarked that,

"It all started with your strike, and that potion. Love truly is a wonderful thing."

"It is. Goodnight, Severus."

"Goodnight, Hermione."

They kissed once more, and then Hermione went to her bed, and Severus down to his in the dungeons, dreaming of the bright future that lay ahead.

I know. Attack of the fluff bunnies, huh? Next thing I post'll be . . . you decide! I've got lots of different stories under differnt pairings lined up, but you choose! And it can be as dark as you want, because I can actually write depressing stories. Sometimes.

LOVE ERISED


	25. Chapter 25

**Chapter 25 – in which the ends of the end are tied up**

The pupils had suspected another prank at first, but soon became accustomed to the couple. They moved in together a fortnight after Ginny and Draco's wedding, and he proposed to her on the first day of the summer holidays, by slotting a note in a book she was reading. When love is that certain, nothing can wait long. They were married in August of that year.

They are legendary not only as proof of the wonders of love, but also as the pair who, among them, invented the Wolfsbane Potion, and the Cruciatus Relief Draught, which has saved millions and cured more, including the Longbottoms. They are working on a number of products, including a potion to cure memory charms, as well.

They originally planned to divide classes between them both after the period of apprenticeship ended, but they ended up sharing.

Severus is keeping a secret from Hermione – Minerva is retiring at the end of the year, and has offered him the post. He plans to tell her at Christmas, in 24 days time. Hermione also has a secret, which she plans to announce to Severus as a Christmas present. There will be a miniature Snape arriving some time in May. Ginny and Draco are breeding like true Weasleys, sharing quarters in the school as Ginny teaches and Draco rises up the Ministry ranks, still working for Arthur, the Minister of Magic.

All is well in the dungeons. The students are less terrified, because he had less time to spend giving detention, and they now respect the Potions Master and Mistress ad fair, though strict, teachers. Hogwarts is unanimous – Love is a wonderful thing.

THANKS TO ALL REVIEWERS, you know who you are.

Isn't it small? I know it is, and I'm sorry. Also sorry for the HUGE delay. But the ends took some time to tie.

Signing off,

erised


End file.
